"It was a gaze, wasn't it?", that's what she was asking herself for days, weeks, for almost a month. She couldn't sleep any more, because she knew that every night her dreams will push that memory closer to the back of her mind, and those dream would only confuse her every day more and more with stupid dreams of her and him, just the way she wants it to be, and not the reality. What had been the reality? She doesn't know anymore. Stupid dreams.
And now she won't sleep, thinking about the next time she see's him: "Will it be a gaze?"