Out of joy, mind. After all, it's not like he could possibly be upset. There's a crescent moon outside the window, and there's a beautiful woman asleep beside him. A beautiful woman wearing nothing but a silk and cotton blend singlet in his favourite colour. His stomach is full, and he can still feel the warm buzz from the several glasses of wine, and the pain in his cheeks is a price he is quite happy to pay for all the laughter he got out of the evening. Above the sound of the slow and steady breathing as Em sleeps, above the sound of Patrick purring under the bed, over the faint noise of the traffic below, is the wind. The window shakes silently in a particularly strong gust, and there's a scratching against the glass of a few leaves unfortunate enough to get carried up this high.

God, he thinks to himself. it's this that makes life worth living. The month away from it all just makes it even more... Mm.

He thinks about the business card in the pocket of his jeans, wherever they may in the mess of clothing on the floor, and then thinks about it some more. Roxanne had given it to him after dinner, when no one else was looking. He hadn't looked at it yet, but she'd grinned and winked as she'd handed it to him. Something about dancing, he thinks she might have said. He wouldn't hold himself to it though, because this is Roxanne after all, not to mention it's three in the morning and by all accounts he should be asleep. His memory isn't the best when he's awake, let alone when he's sleep deprived.

Dancing, however, would be nice. Maybe he should look up dance classes, the tango or something, and enroll Em and himself in them, he thinks. They could certainly afford them now, he supposes with a sleepy smile. He'd meant to tell everyone about that over dinner, but he'd forgotten. He'd been too busy laughing, and joking, and catching up, and trying not to gag at Drake and Teddy, because they had truly been on form. From footsie, to sickly sweet looks, to eating off one another's plates. James loves them and all, but can't help but wish they'd get over this stage rather more quickly.

He considers trying to sleep. It's late, or early, and he's tired. Then Em groans, cuddling further into him, still asleep. "Nnngh... James..."

The emotion bubbles up again and James thinks that maybe having a cry once in a while isn't so bad, and it's not like he has to be anywhere in the morning anyway.