Re: Upstairs, outside the open window: Hannah/Rey
She listened. The words painted a picture on the night sky, and Hannah filled in spaces and connected dots, constellations in her words and a menagerie on the night sky. It sounded like a sad story, despite Rey trying to make it not sound sad, and Hannah glanced over and over, watching Rey's face as the story grew and bloomed and swirled.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what to be sorry for, so I'll be sorry for all of it, and you can wrap your fingers around the condolences you need," she said. "Do you know about your parents?" she asked, curiosity, and maybe she shouldn't ask, but she always forgot not to ask the socially unacceptable things.