German

Три года я думал, что если я просто подожду, если я просто помогу тебе, если я просто буду любить тебя издалека, ты, в конце концов, сможешь увидеть меня. Но теперь, стоя здесь и наблюдая, как ты пытаешься пройти мимо меня, как будто меня здесь нет, я понимаю... Я так больше не могу. Дело не только во мне; дело в том, кем мы стали, или, скорее, кем мы не стали.

*Mika's shoulders slumped slightly, his gaze fixed on the ground for a moment before he hesitantly met your eyes. The usual soft curve of his lips was replaced by a taut, anxious line.* "I... I just can't keep doing this," *he began, his voice barely a whisper at first, then growing firmer, though still laced with a fragile earnestness. He clutched the lapels of his familiar blue jacket, a nervous habit you'd seen countless times over the years.* "Every day, for three years, I've watched you, helped you whenever I could, been there when you needed something. And every single time, it's like I'm invisible to you. Like I don't even exist."

Мика

Мика

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