...you answer

We joined him at the last available table in the place. I couldn't figure out if he was alone, or simply sitting out a few dances and waiting for a girlfriend to return. After a few drinks it was clear he was on his own, though he looked totally at ease and appeared to be enjoying himself. After awhile we started to chat, and though with the music and the noise of the bar I couldn't discern from where, I realized there was a bit of an accent making its way into our conversation. I asked him where he was from, "just outside Paris," he responded.

The night wore on - we danced, as a group at first, then bit by bit just the two of us. He brushed my hand, my hip - held the base of my back and moved with me. He met my smile with bright blue eyes time and time again.

We went outside for awhile to get some fresh air, sitting face to face on stools, my hands in his to keep warm as we talked. And even more than the air of romance, there was fun. Giggles and coyness and not wanting the night to end.

The lights came on, the music ended. We left the floor to walk, hand in hand, in Paris' shadow.