Henri's laughter rang true through the night, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her once more. Jeanne felt no fiery desire but rather overpowering emotion; she languished in it. From far off, strands of music reached their ears, a soft sonata from the strings of tender violins and fathomless cellos. Henri reached down and took one of Jeanne's hands, raising it slowly to shoulder height.
They began to dance.
* * *
The music had stopped many minutes ago, or had it been hours? The moon now commanded the sky, a crescent offering a hook in the heavens.
“I must get you home,” Henri said to the side of Jeanne's head where his lips still dwelled as they danced to the music of the night.
“I think I am home,” Jeanne replied, emotion naked for all to see.
“As am I,” Henri replied.
Did he
