“Wine, please.” Combeferre watches her go into the kitchen with a fond smile. "Of course I came. I am finding it terribly hard to resist your company, hadn't you noticed?"

The little boxes look almost like shiny books, stacked in a neat pile on the table. He sets the wine he brought next to them and picks the top one up curiously. None of the titles mean anything to him, of course. Films, in general, are still a bit of a mystery. “Do you know much about these?"