A heart under a stone

Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables.

The young man moved his dark curls away from his face. He wondered if madness had possessed his once sane mind to come here. But love did that sort of thing; it controlled one's thoughts, words, action, feelings, and writings.

The poems he had clutched in his sweating hand at that moment had been spontaneous acts of adoration. His feelings had exploded and spilled onto the page in a quick burst of love and ink.

Marius looked around the garden; this was her garden, his angel's garden. All was heaven in this hallowed place.

Striking up his courage he ran into the aroma of the blossoming trees, and quickly hid the paper under a rock.

-Looking about to make sure no on was coming, he fled the corpse, leaving his heart under the stone.