After she had finished her glass of wine, we returned to the room. We laid on top of the covers with her on my chest. My fingers ran through her curls in an attempt to calm the both of us. I felt the need to gush to her about how much I loved her, how thankful I was she was safe, and how I couldn't see my future without her in it.
She had heard that all before, though, and I didn't want to overwhelm her when she had already gone through so much. Grabbing a remote from the nightstand, I turned on the surround sound, and some quaint indie music came through the speakers.
"I like this song," she breathed to me.
"I'm glad," I whispered back.
Hannah lifted her head and rested her chin on my chest. I stared into her eyes, once again finding myself trying to memorize the flecks and swirls in her irises as though they were a roadmap to my future.
