Dance Floor: Tobias and Belle
The image before him was one of grace, but elegant beauty; it was fine the idea of a 'sexy' costume, he supposed, but those grew old and reeked of desperation and attention. Not to mention the poor example they gave; no, Tobias preferred the look of Belle. Already beautiful in her own right, and completely aware of it, she was instead bringing about class and dignity that only helped to accentuate it, and showed off the obvious intelligence that played to her: she was smart, and due to that, why wouldn't one of her idols be Boleyn? A woman who, in her own right, beat the odds sent against her in a society that deemed her inferior.
He noted her water and figured that meant inviting her to a drink was out of the question, he'd make sure to remember that. When she slipped closer, his hands moved to rest securely, and confidently on her hips, with his own smile reflecting her own.
"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything too important, but when I saw you from afar I absolutely had to make haste," He then grinned, "Though an odd pair on the dance floor. A classic British royalty, and her upstart suitor, the Biker boy from California. Really, what would the history books think?"