Sinthia shook her head. "No, it's not that, not at all," she said. "It's...I can't describe why I feel anxious." She knows why, yes, but it's hard for her to think about, much less try to form into words that other people can fathom.
"I'm not at all unhappy that you and I both like Illya. I like you too."
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"I'm not at all unhappy that you and I both like Illya. I like you too."