Eric would be hard pressed, if asked, to decide whether he liked Sylvie better in her ethereal dress or in the clamshell bra she'd been wearing, briefly, in the Little Mermaid videos he'd seen of her. No, he thought as he set down his champagne glass, dark eyes focused on her, the best view he'd had of her was under the water in his lagoon as they moved weightlessly against each other.
That would happen again that night, Eric was sure, but, even if it didn't, the ball was loud, bright, and interesting. There had been speeches, yes, but they had missed them, the boring parts, and there were a myriad of people, all in clothes that caught Eric's eye, speaking languages he didn't know but sounded interesting.
But then she smiled at him and his attention was completely focused on her, a smile on his own face as he led her out onto the dance floor. He had practiced, of course, in his own trailer, but there was no real substitute for a warm body moving against his own. His movements were careful at first but soon grew more graceful as he stopped thinking about getting the technicalities right.
"Very close." He murmured against her cheek as they moved, gaining enough confidence to send her carefully spinning out only to welcome her back into his arms. "Closer still if I not wearing all these layers." He complained with a bit of a huff. "You are lucky, you are having fabric that breathes." And was exceedingly light and see through; Eric's eyes shone with enjoyment of that fact.