It started off so nice. The music, if that's what it was, and Qebhet in his arms, and the soft warmth of the air... and Qebhet in his arms. But the steps—
It was so stupid. It was just the foxtrot, for god's sake, harmless. Only. Only, he was leading, and in these kind of dances leading meant he stepped forward and it forced Qebhet backward— no not forced. Not forced.
But it was enough like the moment he'd crowded Lust back into the wall and she'd hit him with such a wallop that Much couldn't stop thinking about how it had felt. Under his smile – which he kept on his face like his smile could convince them both he was okay – he could feel this undercurrent ripping at him. Every time he stepped forward and pushed her back, it pushed the feeling up a notch and the desperation to do something about it wouldn't stop growing.
He pressed his teeth into his bottom lip, wanting– and then Qebhet started singing, and it was so, so far removed from anything Lust would have done in his arms. He'd been a moment away from kissing her, but, her voice was the softest thing. How could he swallow up her voice by kissing her, right now?
She paused, or, the song itself took a moment and she took it too, maybe listening to the piano – there had to be piano – and the sax – was there sax? Much tilted his head forward and pressed his forehead against hers, his eyes closed. "Don't stop, okay?" he whispered, his fingers just a little tighter around her hand. "Keep singing?"