Let’s write some things while listening to a very classic, magnificent piece from Chopin. A piece that reminds her of solitude and longings. The moments her heart aching for just somebody to lay her exhausted head on to, no questions, no inquiries, just a pair of open arms.
And then telling all the stories about her day, and how she says she will be memorizing some of them and stores them inside her very corner of the brain.
And also just looking straight at his eyes. Finding nothing but a shining galaxy of stars. To then sleep peacefully, feeling loved, even though love might be the weakest amount she can ever contain of him.