[Oh, that ping of distress is terrible. A fretful frown follows, because he shouldn't feel like that! He especially shouldn't feel like that because of something she's said!] No way, I like everything about you!

[She doesn't even remember everything about him, but she knows that's how she feels.

After a second, as she glances down at their feet (still synced up, of course) and continues without thinking.] I think it's me. It's like— I shouldn't like anyone? Or no one should like me.

[Hm. That's depressing! She doesn't say it like it's depressing, though. She just says it like a fact she knows, like the sky being blue.]