"Are you okay, Bologue?"
"Hmm? What's up?"
"Nothing, just noticed you're acting a bit odd today, and... you look a bit rough, like you haven't slept for days."
"Oh? Is it that obvious?"
Bologue set down the cup and gazed at his small reflection in the water, truthfully unable to see what Aimou was referring to. He could only shake his head helplessly, trying to reassure Aimou.
"It's nothing," Bologue exhaled deeply, feigning as if nothing had happened, "just everyday worries, you know, I tend to overthink everything."
"But even when you're worried, you rarely show it so openly."
Aimou tilted her head, resting her cheek on her hand as she scrutinized Bologue sideways, "Sometimes, I think you don't even realize it yourself, Bologue, you're quite predictable."
"Like what?" Bologue asked, curious.
"Like most of the time, you love solitude, just like the stereotypical film protagonists."
