Page 289 - And the Mountains Echoed (novel)

sleepily, contentedly, side by side, his head resting on the ridge of a thick root,

hers cushioned by the coat he has folded for her. Through half-lidded eyes, she
watches a blackbird perched on a branch. Streams of cool air blow through the
leaves and downward.
She turns her face to look at him, her big brother, her ally in all things, but his
face is too close and she can’t see the whole of it. Only the dip of his brow, the
rise of his nose, the curve of his eyelashes. But she doesn’t mind. She is happy
enough to be near him, with him—her brother—and as a nap slowly steals her
away, she feels herself engulfed in a wave of absolute calm. She shuts her eyes.
Drifts off, untroubled, everything clear, and radiant, and all at once.