"Please don't." The words come out in a breathless rush, and her grip on his shirt front tightens. She has him here alone. She doesn't want to give him back to the world just yet. Her hand comes up briefly to touch his cheek, to make him look at her again. She meets his gaze, all pride set aside.

Her hands smooth the front of his shirt, his lapels, and eventually she reaches down and takes his hands in hers. There's an odd reverence to her touch.

"I have champagne."