I like her

It's her eyes
The brightest I've ever seen
Yet so brown,
It must be a sign of a siren.

It's how fierce she is
Not caring
And yet she blushes like a blooming flower
Whenever we talk indecently.

It's the way she criticises you
Purposely as a joke
And then she will do it herself.

It's her quirks
Always having sugar and chocolate
And yet always having toothpaste and brush.

It's her accent
So clear and foreign
And yet you can't understand her on the phone.

It's when I call her cute
And she tells me to shut up
But she smiles a little.

It's her taste in music
And how she goes mad when we talk about them.

It's how she wouldn't admit she likes me
But I pine because of that look she gives me.

It's how she is
Always just so

****,
Am I in love?