Jackson’s smile curved, soft around the edges. “Now that you say it like that, I realize who I’m talking to—and maybe that attempt at chivalry was a little wasted.” His laugh was quiet, not unkind, more like he was laughing at himself.
Trinity wasn’t like most women. She had a way of turning fleeting moments into something lasting, of stepping into the rain as if it were her first and last chance to feel it. She never worried about appearances, only about the truth of how it felt. Jackson admired that more than he could ever said out loud.
“Still,” he murmured, his voice dipping with a hint of self-consciousness, “I don’t think you’d really want me to dance. With music, maybe I can pass for half decent. But without it? Without something to cover the edges…” He shook his head lightly, a small, almost shy smile tugging at his mouth. “That might not be the memory you’d want.”
"Definitely not wasted– no. Chivalry will never go unappreciated. Especially not by me," she assured him with her hand gently over his, Jackson's jacket still wrapped around her. It had been thoughtful from its core, so how could she possibly be so dismissive of Jackson's efforts even if the rain was no bother to her.
Trinity's gaze upon him was soft and sympathetic, able to understand where he was coming from but not wanting him to feel like he ever had to be shy in front of her. "You're very cute," she mentioned fondly, watching him be sheepish for what she felt like was the first time she could really recall. "It's okay, you can just follow my lead," Trin beckoned him with an outstretched palm and a brief curl of her fingers. "Who needs music when the rain is providing all the rhythm we need," she laughed softly, having thrown her head back momentarily with eyes shut, enjoying the gentle repeated pressure of the droplets upon her skin. "The memory I'd want is to have fun with you, Jackson. You don't need to worry about your dance moves with me."
