She hadn't moved much during the performance, except to lift her head at particularly dramatic moments. Watching her enjoy the show was like watching a show in and of itself—a private show, just for him. Her eyes would widen at times, and be heavy-lidded at others; her full lips would part, the corners occasionally pulling into involuntary smiles. She would bite at her bottom lip, then purse them, then sigh contentedly before starting all over again. Though the theater was dark, he could see the lights from the stage reflected in her large eyes, sparkling with appreciation and happiness. Her head would sway slightly from side to side in time with the music and sometimes she would close her eyes. In those moments, he knew she was onstage herself, dancing the part of the lovelorn Giselle, leaping and turning across the stage on her toes in a beautiful sparkling costume.
Watching her in a state of happiness and contentment he'd never seen before made his heart tug in a funny little way. Although he'd been struck earlier in the evening by how lovely he thought she looked, it was nothing as compared to how she looked now. In this moment, she had never been so beautiful to him and it had nothing to do with her appearance.
When the ballet ended, Drew rose to her feet along with everyone else in the theater to give the cast a standing ovation. Heath stood up with her and watched as the dancers each had a moment to be recognized. The decibel level in the room rose shatteringly when the dancers that danced the roles of Giselle and her lover, Albrect each stepped forward to bow gracefully and graciously to the audience. Drew seemed to clap even harder, and even Heath had to admit, with his low-level knowledge of dance, that they had been spectacular.
When they had finally made their way through the seething crowd in the lobby and back out into the dark, chilly night, they strolled along casually, their arms brushing against each other's as they walked. Finally Heath looked over at Drew.
"Did you have a good time?" he asked softly. In reply, Drew smiled at her shoes before meeting his gaze.
"I can't even begin to describe how much I enjoyed myself," she answered sincerely. She stopped walking and so did Heath. He looked at her curiously. She stepped toward him and slipped her arms around his waist, leaning her head against his chest. Automatically, his arms wrapped around her and he stroked her back idly. After a moment she pulled away slightly and looked up at him.
"That was probably the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me," she said softly. "You bought those tickets a couple weeks ago, the same day they went on sale. Before we talked because by the time we did, they were sold out. How did you know?"
"I wish I could take all the credit," he admitted. "But your girl Bunz sort of hinted that it was your favorite ballet and that you were pretty sad when you didn't think you'd be able to go."
"Ah, Bunz," Drew said, chuckling. "Still, you didn't have to do anything about it but you did it anyway, just to make me happy." Her arms squeezed him slightly.
"Hope I was successful," Heath said, stroking the ends of her hair. "In keeping with the theme of the evening, and all."
"Very successful," Drew answered. She pressed herself up on her toes a little bit, not having to reach as far as she usually did because she was in heels, and brushed her lips to his cheek and chin. When he tilted his face down a little, she gave him another sweet kiss on his lips. He felt immensely pleased with himself that his little scheme had gone to plan, and that he'd been able to make her so happy. He realized that was a job that he could definitely get used to.
"Well," he said lightly, rubbing her arms. "It's after ten-thirty on a school night. I'd better get you home."
She nodded and they continued down the street toward the parking garage. She hugged his arm and leaned against him. He was pleased at how comfortable she seemed around him now, and how affectionate she was being. He especially appreciated it knowing her history, and that affection from her came with a certain level of trust in him.
When they reached his car, he reached for the handle and opened the door for her. She smiled at him before climbing in, pausing with one hand on the roof and one hand on the edge of the door. "You know," she said, "you don't always have to open my car door for me. Or any door, for that matter."
"Mom says I do," he replied simply, giving her a half-smile and shutting the door after her once she was seated inside.
They were quiet on the drive back to her apartment, but kept their fingers loosely intertwined on his knee. When he pulled up to her building, she glanced at him from under her lashes.
"You can come in for a while, if you want," she said softly. A little surge went through him at the words, but he nodded calmly.