Sharbius
There was no way Mobius could refuse that dancing offer. He was even getting better at it, considering they had done it a few times by now? Well, he moved less like the oldster he felt like he was on some days. Ooof. "Alright, if you insist," he chuckled, finishing off his champagne. "Let's...cut a rug. Or something."
The glass was set down and, with bubbles and fizz tickling his nose and warmth feeling like syrup through his veins, he held out his hand so they could grab a few moments of dancing. And a few moments of 'happy holidays.'