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That my heart was heated by being so shy and turning red when I would lay my eyes on you, but when he drew his love in the same color I would blush, and it's all because of you.
It made me question myself.
Jennie, in which color do you see me?
Because maybe I'm tired of looking at myself in the mirror with a heavy wonder.
I would mock the way my hand would always be open; waiting for you to hold it. Meanwhile, my arms would be wide and free, with meaningful looks. You could sense my nervousness when it comes to you.
An introvert, that's what they try to believe.
But the inner me would shy away and mock away my hidden bravery, just cause I lacked words around you, doesn't mean my words were meaningless.
