[ to her, the music is not as important as the act. one last dance. neither of them may return to this room again... so whatever is there will be enough.
she moves over to the gramophone and lifts the needle. ]
[Whatever she remembers might just be fragments, or something new the mind pieces together like in a dream, but it’ll suffice. It’s the experience that counts, isn’t it? The crux of every memory.
So he sets his glass aside and stands, stepping closer.]
One last dance, then, to whatever your mind thinks is suitable.
[ what more can you expect from her? this is not the happiest occasion. after a beat, she sets her wine glass down (has to clear a space for it on the nearby bookshelf) and slips her hand into his. ]
[Ow, in the way that it didn't really hurt, but was a little surprising.]
I wasn't so bad the first time.
[And he waits for it -- for the beats in the measure to reset, and once it does, he'll take the lead, starting them slow around the clearance of the observatory.]
[ we both already know there isn't much of that in here, but there's just enough to slow dance.
once she's settled into the backwards feeling of following, and stopped trying to instinctively take the lead and turn Henry around the room instead of the other way around, she... drops her forehead quietly against his chest. scantest contact. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It goes down easier, at least, with some repetition.]
Did you have a song in mind?
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[ to her, the music is not as important as the act. one last dance. neither of them may return to this room again... so whatever is there will be enough.
she moves over to the gramophone and lifts the needle. ]
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So he sets his glass aside and stands, stepping closer.]
One last dance, then, to whatever your mind thinks is suitable.
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but she does lower it, and something like this. not exactly, but so close. ]
Well?
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(And yes, the dance will eventually end. But isn't that better than no dance at all?)
He extends a hand.]
It's melancholy. But beautiful.
[High praise for someone with a bias against music.]
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[ what more can you expect from her? this is not the happiest occasion. after a beat, she sets her wine glass down (has to clear a space for it on the nearby bookshelf) and slips her hand into his. ]
You can lead today.
[ for the first, and probably only, time ]
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His hand closes around hers, the other dropping to her side.]
As long as you promise me there'll be no two left feet from you.
[He's kidding. Cheer up a little.]
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I know how to dance better than you, Mister Creel.
[ thwaps him with her tail ]
WE STILL NEED SOMETHING HAPPY TO THREAD
[Ow, in the way that it didn't really hurt, but was a little surprising.]
I wasn't so bad the first time.
[And he waits for it -- for the beats in the measure to reset, and once it does, he'll take the lead, starting them slow around the clearance of the observatory.]
THIS IS GIVING ME WHIPLASH
once she's settled into the backwards feeling of following, and stopped trying to instinctively take the lead and turn Henry around the room instead of the other way around, she... drops her forehead quietly against his chest. scantest contact. ]