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She loves the universe. It's her being, it's her purpose. To protect it. To fight for it. To sympathize for it. Feel through and for it. The universe is the most goregous thing she's ever seen. It's beautiful. She sees it in her dreams, dreams she shouldn't have. Her reason of existing isn't to dream. Maybe they're not dreams, either way it's real.
Swirling pastels of blue, pink, purple, yellow, every color and more, envelopes her. Reaches out and brushes against her skin. It's pure light, pure everything. The concept of the universe and its magnitude, overwhelming. Yet she loves it nonetheless. She reaches back, her fingers grasping nothing, but she knows that it's everything. The universe, so massive, with its enormous hands, cradles her. Cherishes her. Like she's its everything, but thats not right. Because it is everything and she is nothing except its.
The strands of color flow inbetween her fingertips, and around them and encircling her body. Moving slowly, elegantly and careful. Entangling her limbs with its own. So tender in its movements, embracing her with only a part of its being, clearly not wanting to overpower her. But she pulls it closer by the chromatic ribbons, making it tighten around her. The feeling of it pressing down on her on all sides, bloomed an indescribable feeling inside her. It was sweet, and acutely warm.
The lights pulsed a gentle rythm, the code of the universe, she knows. The universe and its everything stripped down to its barest in this rising and falling. Her lips graze it as it ascends, and she chases it. Sweeping over it with affection and adoration of not just her own consuming her mind.
She loves the universe, and the universe loves her back.