[ A spark as glimmering stone makes over opaque flint. A spark, but not something that catches fire. Only something that reflects, serene as moonlight instead.

If only he could do more than sieve, maybe this would be a different story.

Kizuna adjusts to the presence of her body against his as if he was meant for it, steps backwards into the thrum of people carving the way for the billow of lace as it fans with his movement. Already swaying, contemplative in its half-twirl — he's borrowing a little bit from the resort's staff, those who know how to dance and meant to unearth wallflowers from their little gardens. Out of their heads into their feet, as they say.

He can't promise he's the same, but he is a fair multitasker. His heartbeat measures beneath the exacting draw of her fingertips. ]

It seems I've taken you too lightly. [ For once, Kizuna actually seems to consider a threat in earnest. ] Allow me to apologize.

[ Craning low, his nose brushes the smoke of her veils, he smiles inwards, pointed, before lifting his head and glancing aside towards the dancefloor. ]

After this dance, would you consider being my date for the night?

[ Warned once, he offers again. ]