It was no secret that Wolfgang had fallen completely and unforgivably at Euterpe's heels. He was obsessed with her but no more than she was of him. As a prideful man he ate that up without hesitation. If she had other composers he wouldn't let her get away to see them. He wanted to be the only one she was excited to see.
He came out of the bedroom wrapped in his robe and nothing else humming a tune of his own. It was new, nothing she had heard. It was a secret. He wanted to know how long it would take before she investigated.
He bounced on his feet as he danced into the kitchen, waltzing around her as if he were wearing heels. He pulled out the cups from the upper cabinet, balancing one atop his head as he fished through the drawer for spoons. One of those spoons did find itself perched on his big nose still humming away.