"No!" Amabelle's strangled cry rang out

She grasped hold of Jehan's coat in desperation to pull him back. In an easy fashion, he could have shaken her from his arm. Yet it is sometimes the tiniest touch of the weakness that brings the lion to his feet. He slowed. She ran before him and placed her tiny hands on his face bringing him down to kiss her. It was quick, there was no passion, only motive to delay and distract. Amabelle's hands were shaking. Her lover had run through the doors minutes before and triumphantly knocked away the desk reaching for the musket that was hidden behind.

"It is happening! We are ready!" he had said quickly

It had taken seconds for her to understand.

"The barricade! In Corinth! I must go." He had said tearing a jacket from his closet

Then he had run out the door, Amabelle had run after him catching him outside on the cobblestones of the street. She stood now, holding him tightly. Her knuckles turned white under their pressure and her face changed to match the same color.

"Jehan no! Please… don't go." She knew the words would tumble easily off his shoulders

"Amabelle-

"You'll die! Don't you see? Please Jehan!"

The excitement seeped from Jehan's bright eyes, at once they turned solemn. Small earthquakes trembled through Amabelle's body as she shook in fear. Clasping his shoulders harder still she stared into those pools of sullen copper eyes.

His voice was manlier now; serious, "There's a great change about to come… France will metamorphose, vacillate, transpose. Understand Amabelle!"

"No." the words came without envisage.

Something assuaged within him. He seemed to cast aside his perturbation for a second or two. His wide hands stroked her hair soothingly. She shook her head and the hot biting tears pushed against her tender olive eyes. Her nails dug into his flesh.

"I'm sorry. I know, love. You mustn't worry about being lonely for long; I'll come back for you." He began

"No… no please-

"Shh." He said kindly planting a kiss upon her hair, "You understand? It is all for future."

She nodded and her breath came out in shaking gasps.

"Y-you promise to…" she cried, "Promise to c-come back."

"Yes." He replied

The gentle tenderness of their words began to dissolve, the adrenaline seeped back into his racing blood. When she pulled away her white knuckles from his shoulders they left red furrows in his skin. Her

Trembling hands wrapped around his neck. His mouth tugged up a bit at the corners and he held her tight.

"Oh god." She whispered

"Shh cher."

He lifted her chin to press their lips together in an inexpressible burgeon of their tragic love. Waves of amorous undulations circled them. He severed their kiss and pulled back slowly.

"J'taime." Breathed Amabelle

He lightly kissed her forehead; the words were barely off his lips when turned from her.

"J'taime Amabelle."

He was gone. She watched him run, musket in hand, away from her.

"I'm so sorry Mademoiselle."

Amabelle ran. The tears fell like diamonds to the grounds and splattered like her love. She reached the outside of Café Musain panting. Mucus ran down her nose, her eyes were blinded red and deluged, and her face held a passive crazed horror. Clutching her stomach she vomited onto the stones of the street outside Musain. Weak she collapsed again the walls.

"Oh please… no. No…" she moaned

Jehan is dead. I'm sorry… I'm so sorry Mademoiselle…

"You promised…" she murmured feebly, "You promised you'd come back…"

She fell down weeping for her lacerated lover.