Appeasement and Appearances

The moment stretched to a minute as they continued, their movements synchronized in dance. He finally spoke again. "I've irritated you?" Nothing. He sighed. "Forgive me. I understand that our interaction has been...unusual. However, seeing as we _are_ dancing together, and this abnormally long waltz is showing no signs of stopping, perhaps we could skip the conversation from initial dislike to politely curious?" His expression was difficult to read, and she suddenly realized an inexplicable tension hovered upon his person. It was her turn to sigh. "Very well, but at least answer me this. What is bothering you?" He stared at her with a mixture of wariness and amusement, a strange face. "You noticed. Bravo." "Illuminate me," was her response. "I hate dancing." "You seem well practiced despite." "I manage, mostly for the sake of appearances. But I truly dislike it. When dancing, I am devoured by the acute sense that I could be attacked at any moment." "Are you?" "I'm sorry?" A hand tapped his shoulder.