*he wrote down "which kind of traumas?"*

*she stared at him and wrote, “traumas…haunting”*

*he took the notebook and erased the previous message, then he wrote a new one: "may I ask what's eating you?"*

*she stared at him harder before curling up beside him and resting her head on his lap.*

*he continued playing with his strings, without quitting the same relaxed expression from his face, but like being open to anything she could do.*