( She says the name easy and happy, laughing as though re-living it for a moment, and Little finds another sweep of warmth move through his stomach — he likes seeing her happy. Things have been so... they've been a nightmare, an everlasting sequence that never stops, just wanes at times. She's suffered much here, even if she doesn't show it as much as some. He knows she has.
It's nice, to see Wynonna looking happy. Even if there's a small pinprick dose of ache, foreign and weird and shameful and too-human. (It'd be nice if he could make her happy, like that.) He tries to brush it off, this shameful, silly little thing. He really is being ridiculous. Why is he so out of sorts about her? )
Ah— Yes, that is— ( Little slowly lifts their joined hands up into the air, into something more poised. He does know the basic etiquette to dancing, and what she'd been doing with Mr. Givens wasn't terribly different from the waltz movements of his own time, even if he'd never had a chance to use them. Basic, steps forwards and back. Except of course, for him, it's all going to be more formal, and after an odd pause, he lifts his other hand, delicately bringing it to her waist. Slow and cautious, eyes dropping down to watch his own movements, breath bated.
Gently, he lets his hand settle there, although it's truly just resting, not daring to cup or curl or squeeze. His palm barely settles around the curve of her, fingers brushing her back. )
I believe I'm to hold you this way.
( ....All right, this is a little different from when she'd been twirling around with Raylan. Little's got them ready to dance like they're at a formal ball, shuffling neatly around. )
Just— steps forwards and back, then? I believe I'm meant to lead, if that's all right, ( he adds, awkwardly, unsure. He's never led Wynonna anywhere. If anything, she's been the one doing the leading. And while it is the right etiquette for him to guide, he almost feels as though he should ask for her permission here, as well.... )
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It's nice, to see Wynonna looking happy. Even if there's a small pinprick dose of ache, foreign and weird and shameful and too-human. (It'd be nice if he could make her happy, like that.) He tries to brush it off, this shameful, silly little thing. He really is being ridiculous. Why is he so out of sorts about her? )
Ah— Yes, that is— ( Little slowly lifts their joined hands up into the air, into something more poised. He does know the basic etiquette to dancing, and what she'd been doing with Mr. Givens wasn't terribly different from the waltz movements of his own time, even if he'd never had a chance to use them. Basic, steps forwards and back. Except of course, for him, it's all going to be more formal, and after an odd pause, he lifts his other hand, delicately bringing it to her waist. Slow and cautious, eyes dropping down to watch his own movements, breath bated.
Gently, he lets his hand settle there, although it's truly just resting, not daring to cup or curl or squeeze. His palm barely settles around the curve of her, fingers brushing her back. )
I believe I'm to hold you this way.
( ....All right, this is a little different from when she'd been twirling around with Raylan. Little's got them ready to dance like they're at a formal ball, shuffling neatly around. )
Just— steps forwards and back, then? I believe I'm meant to lead, if that's all right, ( he adds, awkwardly, unsure. He's never led Wynonna anywhere. If anything, she's been the one doing the leading. And while it is the right etiquette for him to guide, he almost feels as though he should ask for her permission here, as well.... )