She could've been speaking French and it wouldn't have mattered. Just her voice drowning out the sound of a crying mother was all he needed in that moment. As she spoke he adjusted the way he sat until he was simply laying down with his head upon her lap. His legs were hanging off the edge of the couch and his hands were taking one of hers and placing it upon his chest over his heart.
He had finally opened his eyes again and was gazing up at her as she spoke, drinking in the last of her words. Stephen smiled gently.
"Do you know what my favorite part of all of this is?"