Monde had two ways to laugh.
The first was the loud one. Uproariously would be the adjective. It could be heard from the other room. Arte could hear when she was coming home with someone from work, because the door opening was usually prefaced by the bark of humour.
Arte would reach up to her current length of hair, thin and blonde, and hope she would be presentable to her girlfriend’s friends.
The second came usually at night. When it was just the two of them at home. Monde would have humoured her and watched the latest episode of the latest show Arte wanted to dive into. Monde would make a comment to make Arte indignant and defensive, explaining what they just wanted.
Then Monde would chuckle, quietly, and kiss her on the head, no matter how much hair Arte had.
Arte like that laugh more.