lie, Reivew on Lie to Me

You are sitting across from me. I asked if you were hungry, and you said you had eaten brunch. You only order a glass of expresso. I know you're lying, just trying to get out early. Because when you said you were not hungry, you did not look at me, but held your left hand in the palm of your right. Look at the meniscus on your nails one by one. This is the case every time you lie. It's like clenching your hands, giving yourself the strength to keep the lie going.
I know you know I'm lying. When I say I miss you so much. I raised my eyes forty-five degrees to the left and floated toward the ceiling. There is a gorgeous palace-style crystal lamp there. It's a pity that it was covered in dust, and it looked so unbearable in the noon sun. You know that when I lie, I always look into the air like this, it will listen to me sincerely, and I don't have to worry about being exposed.
We are so familiar and know each other's body language so well. So, all the lies are to tell the truth - I don't love you anymore.
What makes me curious, however, is that I can see myself lying to you because it is reflected in the mirror in your pupils. I can't see myself lying to myself. I once tried to lie to the mirror. When I said I was not sad, the face in the mirror looked as usual. When I say I love you, that face in the mirror has your face in my eyes.
In fact, all of the above are fictitious. I'm the big talker who writes novels. Can you see what I look like when I lie now?

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