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Idyll (Enjolras): May, 1828
He walks beside me, quiet and steady in the morning sunlight, and it is no hardship to keep myself to his unhurried pace. Now and then we clasp hands for a moment as we go, for the simple joy of touch and companionship. The stones of the street are still damp from the night's rain, catching gleams from the pale sky. It seems no time at all before the street becomes a road, and the houses recede into fields. A breeze runs through the long grass of the untended meadow with hardly a sound, but somewhere, not far off, a bird is singing ceaselessly. Audric catches my arm. "Look." "What?" "Flowers, Julien." And my breath catches involuntarily at the sight of them; stark and vivid blue against the faded green of the field, nodding gently in the breeze. He laughs, slipping an arm around my waist. "Such a color," I say, trying to explain my reaction, the unexpected pang that went through me. But he only smiles. "Blue as your eyes." "Don't be absurd." "Can't I be absurd? Just for today?" I can't help but smile back; the day is so fine, the flowers are so blue, there is such love in his face. "I suppose so." "Beloved," he breathes. He draws me aside into the meadow and down into the grass, hidden from anyone who might pass by, and kisses me. For a few moments there is nothing in all the world but the feel of him in my arms, the wind that moves over us, and the strengthening sun on my hair.
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