When he thinks about it later, he'll never be able to say exactly how long they dance. It doesn't matter. What matters is the soft cadence of the music, the feel of Sharon in his arms, the way the two of them move across their own personal dance floor under the bright Wakandan stars, surrounded by tiny lights.

At some point, though, a thought occurs to him and he lifts his head to look down at her. "You must be starving. Let me make you a snack?"