Private Aden Robertson

Aden had been against a wall; making his escape slowly from the room. A mix if anger, shame and guilt still burning in his gut when Zoe appeared as if she was made of shadows. 

Or maybe the blood thundering in his ears hid her footsteps. 

[quote=@Dyelli Beybi]
"So," she declared, with a slight smile forming in the corner of her mouth, "The old boy made it sound like you leaped in front of a bullet intended for the whole crew.  If so..." she raised her glass, taking a genteel sip, "Though I must say, I'm distinctly impressed by the quality of the stitches.  Excellent work, you're healing up nicely."

She glanced idly around the party, "Nobody is dancing, which is distinctly boring."
[/quote]

Compliments was the last thing he expected from her; or an agreement with Carter's ambitious toast for that matter. No sarcasm or ill intent seemed to linger on her gaze or features. Honesty seemed to be her default. It was refreshing and surprisingly it took some of the sting away. 

"Do you want to?" Memories of the steps accompanied the days spent learning the common dances; a necessity for an upcoming trader looking to intermingle with the upper crust. If only out of a commonality. Still for whatever reason Aden offered the appropriate arm and bowed his head in askance. "My waltz is serviceable, my lady." 

Though doing so in army boots, with a pistol belt and a stitched arm wound would be a new experience for Aden. He wisely left that part out.