ᛝ【 @heartrendingss- 】ᛝ
Benedict felt the lightness of her hand slip into his and closed his fingers around it naturally, as though the gesture had always been inevitable.
“Spontaneity?” he echoed with a faint smile. “I should hope so. Life would be terribly dull without it.”
He guided her gently toward the dance floor as the next set began to form, his movements unhurried, giving her plenty of time to change her mind if she wished. Yet something told him she would not.
When she admitted she loved dancing — loved attention — but not the suffocating formality of it all, his expression softened with understanding.
“Yes,” he murmured. “That is precisely the problem.”
They stepped into place among the other couples, the musicians beginning the familiar rhythm of the set. Benedict turned to face her fully now, one hand settling lightly at her waist, the other still holding hers.
“But tell me, Nina,” he continued quietly, leaning just close enough that the words were meant only for her, “who decided it must be serious?”
The first movement of the dance began and he stepped smoothly with it, guiding her into motion.
“I assure you,” he added with a small glint of mischief returning to his eyes, “I have absolutely no intention of behaving properly.”
He spun her gently through the first turn of the set before catching her hand again.
“To me,” Benedict said, voice warm with quiet amusement, “this is simply music… and an excuse to move.”
His gaze lingered on her, curious.
“So dance with me,” he finished softly, “not for the ton… but because you enjoy it.”