"My dear husband, I'm glad you asked."
Daphne placed her much smaller hand in his, willing herself not to flinch as he placed his other hand on her waist. There were countless eyes staring at her, waiting for her to make a mistake. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
Atticus took a step forward, and they were off. Daphne felt years of dance practice take over instinctively, as she matched his movements step for step, beat for beat, in unison to the melody of the violins. Her dress flared out as she twirled.
As they spun around the dance floor, the lights around them blurred like they were stars. She could fuzzily make out a few more couples joining them when the herald prompted. Slowly, more and more people joined them, surrounding Daphne and Atticus, who were dancing right in the middle.
They were the star, the main attraction. And for once, it didn't feel like too bad of a thing.
