#devry

“Darling?” Devon smiled as the familiar thoughts of Henry entered her mind.

She opened her eyes to see a plate of steaming food, a basket of pastries, and a vase of flowers placed upon her desk.

“What’s this for?” Devon signed with a bemused smile.

“You don’t know what day it is, do you?” Henry replied with a small frown as he took in the state of her wellbeing.

“Of course I do, I print a newspaper every day. It’s the 14th,” she signed back confidently.

A few seconds passed as they stared at each other before Devon’s eyebrows suddenly shot up.

“VALENTINE’S DAY! Oh Merlin, I totally forgot,” her hands waved in the air in a flustered panic.

“I’m so sorry, dear. I don’t have anything-“ her hands were stopped mid sentence as Henry approached. His warm hands took hers and then he drew her to his chest.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. You’re all I need today,” the words barely a whisper in Devon’s mind as Henry’s lips brushed against her neck.

“However, I do have something for you, but you’ll have to stop working and come with me, so eat up. Also, you will need your coat,” he said as he withdrew and walked towards the door.

Devon brought her hands up to protest but was cut off.

“And I won’t take “no” as an answer,” he smiled, leaving the room.

Paris, France - February 14th, 1998, 6:09 PM

The water of the Seine River rippled and danced with the vibrant reds and yellows of the sunset as the two of them strolled along the waterfront, hand in hand.

As they passed the Eiffel Tower, Henry grinned and pulled her towards it until they were standing directly below it. They danced in the grass under the sunlit tower without music until the light faded. For a moment, neither of them could remember the blood and fire. It was just the two of them, arms and hands entwined, dancing under the starry sky.

After giving Devon a twirl to their imaginary music, Henry guided her towards a nearby bench. Once they were seated, he pulled a small box decorated with a red ribbon from his coat pocket and handed it to her.

“I told you that I didn’t get you anything,” she said wordlessly, brows furrowed.

“And you didn’t need to get me anything, Dev,” Henry assured her. “It’s a gift, not a trade. Go ahead, open it.”

A small smile quirked at the corners of Devon’s lips as she unraveled the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a gold locket in the shape of a rose, attached to a delicate gold chain.

Henry watched her curiously as she turned it over in her hand a few times, admiring the details. “Do you like it?”

Devon grinned at him. “I love it,” she thought, then opened the locket, but there was nothing inside.

Noticing her confusion at the empty locket, Henry chuckled. “I didn’t wanna be presumptuous by sticking my ugly mug in there. I thought I’d leave it up to you.”

Devon took his hand and snuggled into his shoulder. “I’m putting you in this locket. Thank you, Henry. I love it.”

Henry held Devon close as the white and yellow lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkled around them. He could have stayed there all night, but he still had one more surprise in store.

They walked further down the Seine until they reached the Musée d'Orsay. Its white limestone exterior was illuminated by a series of decorative lanterns and orange light that glowed from the arched windows. Henry lead the way towards a short line of Parisians queued up outside the entrance.

“The museum is still open?” Devon released Henry’s hand to sign.

“Yep. For a special Valentine Event.” Henry pulled two tickets from his pocket and grinned.

“No day-time crowds. Plus they’ll be serving cocktails.”

Once inside, they checked their coats and got drinks from the pop-up bar. A glass of chardonnay for Devon and an old fashioned for Henry.

“What should we see first?” Henry signed, his thoughts simultaneously entering Devon’s mind.

She pulled her camera from her bag and took a photo of Henry, who was carefully inspecting the map he’d grabbed on their way in. “How about we start with the photography collection?” She smirked.

They wandered the museum arm in arm, sipping their drinks and admiring the photography display. Every once in a while Devon would pause at a photograph she found particularly interesting as Henry listened intently to her commentary. She tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brow as she spoke, a face which Henry thought was quite possibly the cutest thing in the world.

After another hour of exploring, they reached the Van Gogh exhibit, when one painting, in particular, caught Henry’s eye.

“This one reminds me of tonight,” he stated. The painting of deep blues and glowing yellow depicted a beautiful starlit night and the reflections of gas lights on a shimmering river.

Devon stepped closer to read the painting's label. “Starry Night Over the Rhône,” she thought to Henry.

Henry looked at the painting with a funny expression, his arm slung casually over Devon’s shoulders. “I always thought Starry Night was the one with all the swirly stars.”

“No, you’re right. But this is a different starry night.”

“Well, that could be confusing to a lot of people.”

At the audible sound of Devon’s soft giggles, Henry turned slightly so he was facing her. When she looked at him, he could see the purplish bags that had begun forming under her eyes. He could see how tired she was. What this war had done to her. But her brown eyes sparkled just as brightly as they always had, and it took his breath away.