Re: Upstairs, outside the open window: Hannah/Rey
Hannah was nosy. She loved reading people's pages, as if everyone was a book and the cover seldom told the story in any reality. She didn't like the pretty tales, despite a love for fairy stories, and she liked scars and scabs and real things. Real things made real people, and the girl who wasn't sure about her own realness loved finding truth in others.
"Don't you want to know?" she asked, the birdlike tip of ear to shoulder happening again and again and again throughout the conversation. Curiosity in the tip of her head and the tangle of her hair, and Hannah liked the saying Rey shared. She thought about it a moment. Thought and considered, and she smiled. "I like that, and I think it's true of everyone," she said about families and life and ahead. "But I think it maybe helps to know were we came from, even if it's to understand the things that didn't shape us," she mused.
"But the truth isn't always good or nice," she acknowledged, because that was true too.