@allbravado
“When I was a boy,” He had taken her hand in his, being careful not to grab too tightly, “I remember the parties my father would throw. I would watch the men and women dance. I would memorize the way they moved and the patterns their feet would make, thinking one day I may have a partner of my own.
“But then my cousin arrived and she would be my dancing partner. I didn’t think she’d be for so long, but now...” His other hand reached out to touch her waist, each finger taking note of the texture of her fabric as well as her form, should he need to recall it later. “I’ll teach you and perhaps you will be much better at it than she.”
His normally solemn face twisted into a snicker as he whispered. “She’s terrible at it.”













