Re: Wandering: Hannah/Fiach
She didn't start or jump or flinch, and maybe people who knew her past would expect her to do all of those things. But she'd learned long, long ago that reactions fueled cruelty, and she had taught herself to mete out those reactions when she most needed them. This was not one of those moments, and she knew nothing bad would happen here. She wasn't afraid of men, not really, not like she maybe should be. She knew them to be cruel and unkind and often, but knowing silenced fear. Like walking into a haunted house, one where you already knew the location of all the jump scares, and this was like that. She heard his voice, and she turned and looked at him.
He was dressed like class. He was dressed like a person who owned a house on the lake themselves, and she wondered if he was a friend of Hugh's. He seemed the type, just on first impression, to be the type of man Hugh would enjoy having as a friend, and she tipped her head and thought, considered, decided. She smiled at him, even as she lifted ear from shoulder. "Hi," she said. Simple and small, two little letters and one syllable.
She wasn't expecting the extension of his fingers, and it made her laugh. A giggle, really, younger than she was and a bauble-bright sound. "Okay," she said, and she reached out and took his fingers with her own. She remembered all the dances now. The ones from dance class, and then the ones from the classes she took when she was engaged. Dances, because galas and events required them, and Marcus had never liked being embarrassed, and she remembered the dances now. She remembered everything since the strange encounter with Daniel at the carnival, as if she'd woken up with eyes truly open for the first time in a long time.
She gripped his fingers lightly, and she curtsied with another laugh, and she wondered what the silent music was that played in his head. "You'll need to lead," she said. "I don't know this song."