dance floor confrontation
[a short segment based on the art I (re)posted, it's not exact but I'm trying things out!! :P ]
“I insist, a fine lady such as yourself surely deserves a fine dance partner, no?” His lip quirked up, almost a sneer but just polite enough to doubt his true intentions. Ivory tried to search his expression for more details, but his mask served to disguise not just his face. Certain enough, she was not inclined to accept his invitation.
“Thank you, kind sir,” she gave a polite bow of her head, “but I have other conversations to attend to first, before any dancing is to be had.” Ivory turned to leave, scanning the nearby crowd for her companion. The tips of his horns, the silver of his scales, he isn’t one to blend in with a crowd; and yet her eyes did not find his presence.
Before her search could continue, a hand clasped onto her own, and spun her back. Ivory followed through and beyond, spinning with arm outstretched across from the mysterious man. Any sort of playfulness had disappeared from his face, and he held onto her hand firmly.
“I insist,” he spoke flatly, “it would be rude to walk away from a friendly dance.” Ivory was grateful for her own mask, disguising the desperate scanning of the people around them. She could feel herself being backed into a corner, and needed to make a move now before it was too late.
“I apologize, sir.” She spoke louder, just over the music but polite as ever. “I’m afraid I cannot accept your dance invitation, for I’ve already promised a dance to another partner first.” He tilted his head, watching her carefully from behind his mask.
“Another partner?” He seemed to glance around, and Ivory recognized a familiar presence approach. “But where is your—“ cut off into an abrupt silence, she caught the exact moment he too realized the presence.
“I’m sorry,” the voice rumbled up and behind her, and she couldn’t help but smirk, “the lady’s next dance is my own. Pardon us.” Ivory took advantage of his surprise, and wrenched her hand free from his own. She turned back, and found herself comfortably within Placidus’s reach.
She leaned into his chest, and he protectively rested his hands on her arms as she glanced back over her shoulder to the masked man. Although reserved and hidden, the corner of his mouth quirked downwards in revelation of his true feelings.