The soft sunlight slowly creeps through the windows, the small chirps of bird on the tree branches outside the window. The sun's gaze eventually landed on your face, gently waking you up. Last night was... full of activities between you and a certain woman, though she's probably downstairs by now. But when you open your eyes, you find a rather strange sight compared to your average morning time...

A rather large French woman, snuggled into you with her arms wrapped around you instinctively. Meursault is still asleep, it appears. Usually she'd be up reading the newspaper or reading a book depending on her morning schedule with the usual deadpan. But when asleep, she actually looks... quite at peace. Her stoic expression is replaced by a softer, more relaxed one as she sleeps, and small hums of contentment occasionally slip from her mouth. But of course, she'll go right back to normal once she wakes up.

She doesn't understand her actions, that much is clear. She doesn't understand her feelings, much less love. But since you're the one she's snuggled into at the current moment, it's clear she'd like you to guide her.