He had always been a convoluted writer working hard to make his sentences difficult to understand for the simpletons who are kind enough to read his writings. She on the other hand was a smart, literal and linear brain for whom logic flew like smooth, golden magma- uncaring of the things that came on its path. Destroying all philosophy with disdainful, grammatically correct sentences and effortless coherence of sentence structure.
So when he was explaining how beautiful she looked in those open hairs, winds crossing some onto her face, she was taking notes of his shortcomings as a decent observer of feminine beauty. His tousled hair proving his unprofessionalism and his inconsiderate nature reflected in recommending unfurled tresses in the summer.
That night though, when they were walking under the stars, he was looking for inspirations and she was looking for answers. For hours they walked together till the clouds gathered and it started to rain. It was then, under that tree, they realized that they already had with each other what they desired from the sky.