She rubbed her burning eyes, trying to get rid of the sleepiness. The intrigue in her sleepy eyes built as the story progressed making her go crazy as the plot slowed to a snail’s pace. She buried her nose further into the pages, taking in the smell of each exquisitely different letter. Her eyes took in every word, soaking up the details, her mouth unknowingly muttering ‘what’s and ‘oh my god’s as the story twisted and turned in her head. She sank further into the armchair, wrapped cosily in a blanket while the hearth warmed the room and the cold winds blew in through the open window. She gasped ever so slightly... And in that very moment, the fire cackled just as her eyes widened - every inch of sleepiness just flew out of her. In that instant her eyes became rivers of water, and tears flowed down her cheeks. She slammed the book shut and fled the library barefoot, with the cold creeping down her back. She crawled into bed like a shivering cat, sobbing and sniffing, causing him to put down his laptop and pull her into his warm body.
“He died,” she sobbed, “why did he die?”
“Who died?” He asked, only partially knowing what she was talking about.
And in that moment he knew exactly why she was crying; he let out a soft chuckle pulling her closer so he could rest his head on hers.
“My dear this world does not deserve you,” he whispered against her soft, fragrant hair.