You know, he’s never danced before?

There was some small part of him, a part that didn’t bother to speak with words very often, that always wanted to. Hit enough buttons in time to the music, flail about on enough dance pads, you start to wonder what the real thing’s like. If you’d be any good at it. If you’d like it. But the longing never grew into a proper wish while he still had a dance club he could join. Now it’s too late. Maybe there’s a seniors’ ballroom dance society in town somewhere that wouldn’t mind a younger face.

There’s too many eyes on him. If it wasn’t for the insistent tug on his hand, he’d be standing stock-still. If his body didn’t know how to follow a beat, he’d be stumbling to the ground. Every moment he’s surprised he hasn’t made a fool of himself yet. But it’ll happen. He knows it’s going to happen. He’s going to miss a step. He’s going to go right when he should’ve gone left. They’ll know. They’ll [i]know.[/i]

And for a moment, he doesn’t have to move. He hangs, perfectly still, perfectly balanced in Keli’s grip. All he can see is glitter and silk. Purple and golden brown. Whispering heat on his lips.

“Eyes on me.~”

In the rushing, whirling panic of his thoughts, he scrambles for this patch of solid ground like his life depends on it. When the world stops spinning, he finds her eyes. She steps him forward. She steps him backwards. His gaze doesn’t leave hers, except when he has to blink, which presumably he was still doing, because his eyes weren’t getting itchy. Follow her. Eyes on her. 

Bit by bit, his body relaxes into the rhythm. Somewhere, he stops counting the one, two, three, four. And-

It’s tricky, playing games about rhythm, because when the music is pumping, and your heart is racing, and your thoughts vanish into a flow of focus and reaction, you want to dance, right? It’s not optimal. You might forget to actually hit the buttons when you’re supposed to. A lot of people don’t do it, and he always wonders if anyone’s watching and thinking he’s trying to showoff. But it’s more fun to sway as you slide your fingers across the touchscreen. Bounce, bounce, bounce between the notes. Give a little flourish, because he can, and because he loves this song.

A pop of the foot. A sway and a swish to his step. Spin him out, and he stretches his arm out, and hold, and hold, and let his fingertips play with the light as it passes. His body knows what it wants to do. His body knows when to do it. 

His mind is free to float. 

The song is lovely. The music is wonderful. He could listen to them perform for hours. He could dance like this for hours. He’ll be sad when the song ends. The silk on her hip is so soft. It’s like no clothing he’s ever worn before. He rests his hand on her with no extra pressure. He would be a gentleman about this. He remembers the dip. He remembers the dip. What did he think was going to happen? She wasn’t. She wouldn’t. Even if she dipped him again she. She wouldn’t. It was just a dance. 

The purple looks so pretty, around her brown eyes. She looks so pretty…

This is all part of a fox scheme. Don’t forget. They’re up to something. That’s why she wanted to show you around. That’s why she wanted to dance with you. Don’t get lost in the music. Don’t forget to hit the buttons. Don’t think about her dipping you again.

Don’t forget.

[Hazle gets 1 XP for dancing like a good boy. Rolling to Figure Out A Person, +1 for rhythm games: 6 + 4 + 1 = 11. 

-What do you hope to get from [s]kidnapping[/s] guiding me around the festival?

Banking one question.]