"What do you hate most about people?" He placed his elbows on her desk, sitting backwards in his chair.

"Their vision," she kept reading her book.

"Really? That is what I like most, how we see things. Especially when we think we see something that is not there," he sighed with a smile on his lips.

"That is what I hate most. We see things that are not there, we see something we want to see, ignoring that there is something beneath it. They say that the color of the plant is everything but that color. Because it bounces off, we see what is not there," she flipped the page of her book.

"We're not talking about the paranormal anymore are we?" He rested his head on her desk.

"Depends, what are you getting at?" She looked at him, only glancing for a second. But he saw that she wasn't reading her book when she went back to her book.

"Liza, what color are you?" He looked up at her.

"To society or to myself?"

"Yourself."

"Can't answer that, because even we are clueless to what we see, one thing could be black, but it could also be white," Liza closed her book and began to get up. She got her bag and left.

The conversation ended, and he didn't bother her with questions like that anymore.