...
Margaret touched the rose on her head and found her ears cold. She blushed and asked, "What do you think?"
Julian nodded. "Beautiful!"
"You like roses?"
Margaret lowered her eyes and studied him with confusion. He replied unnaturally, "Yes."
She asked, "You said beautiful. Did you mean me or this rose?"
Julian was stunned. He smiled helplessly. "Can I reserve my answer? It's so difficult."
Margaret's face darkened. She said fiercely immediately, "Why? Is it because you don't want to or you don't dare to? It's just a yes or no question."
Julian coughed softly. His gaze swept past Margaret and landed on a bunch of roses. He said seriously, "Willows smile in the wind while apricots blush in the rain."
Margaret frowned. "Is this a poem?"
Julian answered, "Yes. About a beautiful lady."
Margaret smiled in shyness. She knew that he was praising her.
She touched the rose petals on her head and whispered, "What does it mean?"
