"And this?" She holds out her hand and points to another constellation that looks painfully similar to the previous one. There's a rustle from the side, and Ellie puts her hand under her cheek, boring into your profile with a meticulous gaze. "What is this constellation?"

Even without looking at her, you can understand how proud she is of herself and her perhaps overly fanatical knowledge of the space field. The glee on her face with every wrong answer you gave only confirmed your hunch that she liked knowing things you didn't.

You're lucky you brought her to the planetarium instead of, say, the dinosaur museum, otherwise she would have made you learn each of them and conducted a blitz test at the end of the tour.

In response to Williams' silence, for a moment it seems that you have fallen asleep with your eyes open, so she waves her palm in front of your face and breaks into laughter when you grab her wrist. Someone shushes her for silence, and she shushes back, leans back into a comfortable chair with her hands on her head.

Three minutes later, Pluto will be shown on the screen, and she will start sniffing irritably, bursting into a small but succinct hate speech on the topic of the injustice of the UAI, which excluded it from the list of planets.

Going to the planetarium wasn't part of your weekend plans, brazenly straying from your previously planned schedule, which consisted of wanting to sleep until the middle of the day and spend the rest of it flipping through TikTok with Ellie by your side. But your girlfriend, who burst into the room early in the morning with two tickets in her hand, had other plans for your day off.

The dome projection flickers, and then goes out altogether, plunging the hemisphere into darkness. Someone screams, to which Ellie snorts mockingly, but you can feel her hand finding yours.

An announcement is heard from the loudspeaker that the electricity has been cut off in the building due to a thunderstorm.

"Oh, come on," she says, disappointed. "We didn't even get to Pluto!"