"When I was a kid, my mom made me take dance lessons."
"Really?"
Maureen nodded, her chin lightly tapping the top of Joanne's left breast. "She wanted me to be a ballerina."
Joanne loved these moments in the afterglow of their love making as the last traces of sweat evaporated from their bodies.
After quaking with pleasure Maureen would always grow quiet, contemplative, and then as though a dam was broken within her, she would begin to whisper her thoughts.
She would speak of aspirations and dreams, what she wanted to name their future children, her fear of Collins one day losing the battle against the virus living in his blood. Sometimes she would be philosophical, sometimes she would be silly but, she would always speak from the heart and Joanne would lie there, tracing odd shapes on Maureen's ivory back, drinking it in.
"And you didn't want that?"
Maureen was silent for a moment. "It's not that I didn't like dancing…I just loved singing more," she concluded softly.
Joanne lifted her hand and rested it in Maureen's hair, lightly scratching her scalp. "Were you any good?"
Joanne felt Maureen smile. "I was good."
Maureen had stated this in a non-boastful manner, as though it was simply a fact. Joanne felt a flutter in her stomach and she kissed the top of Maureen's head in response.
Suddenly Maureen rose, untangling herself from Joanne. She lifted one of the white sheets, wrapping it around herself as she stood next to the bed.
Joanne sat up frowning. "Where are you going baby?"
Maureen gave her a soft smile before turning and moving to the window. She stood there for a moment looking out at the blanket of snow, whose first flakes had begun to fall as the couple stumbled into the bedroom hours earlier. She shivered from the cold air that seeped through small cracks in the windowpane.
Joanne rolled onto her side, laying her head on her folded arm. She watched Maureen's reflection in the glass.
Maureen closed her eyes and lifted her left hand from the sheet. She brushed a stray curl away from her cheek with her knuckles, sliding her hand down her face, her neck, and back to its place holding the bunched sheet against her collarbone.
Slowly, she began to sway.
Maureen hummed a song within her throat, one that Joanne could only faintly hear and couldn't name. She raised one hand, turning her palm out towards the ceiling, and then the other hand followed, releasing the sheet and letting it float to the floor.
Joanne watched Maureen's bare form move, the moonlight casting her silhouette onto the bed, a gentle shadow dipping into the peaks and valleys of twisted, cotton sheets.
Joanne wouldn't have realized that Maureen had begun to cry if she had not have heard the waver in Maureen's nameless lullaby.
She quickly climbed out of bed and moved over to Maureen, standing behind her. Joanne reached up with her right hand, taking both of Maureen's arms, and pulling them tight against Maureen's chest. With her other hand Joanne tenderly wiped the tears from beneath the brunette's closed eyes.
"Shh, I've got you."
Maureen laid her head back onto Joanne's shoulder in acknowledgment. She continued to sway, the movement causing Joanne to flow with her.
And they danced to a song with no words.