The work started up the next day, and after a small breakfast Gunter had Chris in the common room dancing. Zeven had been given the task of providing waltzing music.
His fingers moved with more grace and eloquence than her entire body. Floating along the keys as she stumbled over her own feet.
"I thought that adding music would help you feel the flow of the steps, but I'm afraid it might have only made things worse."
Zeven did not stop playing, trying his best to keep out of the conversation. However Chris did stop dancing. She put her hands on her hips and scowled at him.
"It's not as easy as it looks."
"You certainly make it look like a chore."
"Well you can wear the dress and pretend to be Zeven's lover."
The piano music stopped abruptly.
"No he cannot." He almost sounded panicked from his spot on the piano bench, "Gunter can I have fifteen minutes with her? I think she needs a break."
Gunter gave a curt nod before walking up the stairs and disappearing on the second floor landing. "Must you antagonize everyone?"
"Yes."
Zeven sighed, standing up from the bench and crossing over to her.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"We are going to try dancing. I have a suspicion that your…" he paused. Searching for the right word, "troubles... are due to self consciousness. I hated having to dance by myself."
He grabbed her hand. Stretching it away from her body
"What happened to taking a break?"
"Would you believe it's a break from breaking?"
He offered her a coy smile, to which she could only roll her eyes.
Deciding that giving in was easier than resisting at this point she moved her other hand into position.
"Chris your hand does not go on my waist, that is where I'm putting my hand."
Zeven moved her hand up to his shoulder, before returning his hand to where it belonged.
"I don't like your hand there."
She grabbed his hand and placed it up on her shoulder. He could feel the bandage under her thin shirt. With both hands on each other's shoulders, they were interlocked. Equal forces pushing and pulling apart.
"I'm not asking you to like it," he moved his hand back to her waist, gripping it more firmly than before, "but if you could tolerate it, I'd take that."
"This is very frustrating. All the steps are backwards."
"I can imagine, and I empathise. But if I may, you have to let me lead."
"No, I don't. Don't forget that I am used to leading these dances as well."
"I can't forget, because you won't stop bringing it up."
His left hand grabbed her right hand bringing it straight out to the side. Pulling her closer as he did this. Only keeping a few inches between the two of them. Following a simple box step they managed to circle around for a minute before Chris stepped forward with the wrong foot, trampling on his toes. They were both bare foot, which didn't help either of them. Nothing protected Zeven's toes as she stepped on them, and Chris leaned dangerously to the side. In a split second, Zeven caught her in his outstretched arms pulling her back to safety and holding her against his chest. She could feel his heart as it hammered in his chest.
They rested like that for a moment, before Chris pushed away and got back into a dancing stance.
"Let's compromise, you need to look like you're enjoying yourself and you're not that good of an actor. Hands will stay where they are," he moved their connected hands out in a small circle to emphasize his words, "You dance the woman's role, and I will let you lead. That is, if you can make it look like you aren't leading. Remember, we need to sell that you are heads over heels for me."
"You want me to lie?"
"Only if you want your head to remain on your shoulders."
They tried to suppress a chuckle with little successes. Starting to move again, Zeven refrained from trying to push and pull her in the desired direction, instead letting Chris call the shots. Their dance began to grow smoother as they fell into a rhythm.
"I'm going to dip you now, ready." He didn't wait for her answer as he suddenly dipped her backwards.
She looked up at him, eyes squinted and mouth pursed, "No."
"Is that the face you're going to make when I do it for real?"
"Don't tempt me."
"You tempt me." He winked at her. And she rolled her eyes at him.
"I hate you."
"Hopefully you won't say that at the party."
"I'll consider it."
He looked down at her, a coy smile playing at his lips, "Oh great and noble Christopher, What must I do to have to take pity on this poor man?"
"You could dance the woman's role."
A smug look on her face and a challenge in her eyes made it impossible to refuse her.
"If it will pacify your anger, I would be more than willing. But just in private." He winked at her.
In a swift movement, Chris was back on her feet and his hands were placed on her shoulder holding his right arms out. Once he was in place, she moved her hand down to his waist. It was so different from when she had danced with other woman. It lacked the softness and the delicate curve of a woman's waist. She could feel the muscle underneath his shirt and she had seen it without the shirt on several occasions.
She gave a gentle nudge and they started moving. Despite his towering stance, Zeven moved gracefully with every step. Incredibly reactive to her leading him. He lacked any hesitation or shame as he danced with her.
"Okay… how are you so good at this?"
"Brennan needed to learn and I was short."
"That leaves more questions than it answers."
He didn't answer her, instead pulling her closer. Dipping his head down enough to rest his chin on her shoulder. He hummed lowly, a bittersweet melody that kept in time with their steps.
"What are you doing?"
"This is what you do when you love someone."
"Okay."
The waltz dissolved, like sugar on the tongue. All at once sweet and then bitter nothingness. They parted from each other, Zeven returning to the piano bench while Chris curled up on the couch. Waiting in the silence for Gunter to return and the lesson to resume again.