Emlyn & Luke
Now that the element of surprise regarding Reagan was out of the way, it was a little easier for Luke to breathe with it. He wondered vaguely if Emmy even remembered that he and Reagan used to be betrothed. She'd been so young when Reagan left, and it was just possible that she'd forgotten. On the other hand, she was probing in much the same way that he mother might've, which lent credence to the theory that she did remember. Talented and special lady. "She is that, yep," Luke agreed, dipping her under his arm to turn her quickly beneath it. Probably best to leave it there.
Besides, it was more pleasant to focus on the task of lifting Emmy up, which, as the music quickened and crecendoed, he did, drawing the air around his body and pushing a cushion of it beneath her feet. He went far more slowly than he would have if he were lifting himself, made cautious by so many years of his power unexpectedly failing him, but within a minute or two, he'd managed to get her several feet in the air, her heels high over his head. He tipped his head back, proud of himself as he let the air buoy her up from beneath.