"Fine," she breathed, breaking away from him.
They sat in silence for a moment with Mathias looking at her and her out the window. Finally, he tapped her knee.
"I'm sure I said this before but Shadowfax. That was incredible, I must say the second show was even better than Lumber House, I could not get over how good it was."
"Thank you, dancing is a part of us." She said, it was barely a lie.
"You must be proud."
Heather nodded, blinking to find Matthias a little closer.
"Good, because I love watching you dance."
"Me?" Heather asked.
"Yes."
"By myself?" Heather asked, suspicious.
"Yes,"
"I'm not the lead." Heather argued.
"That does not take away from your ability, you move beautifully"
Heather blushed. "Thank you. Want to see me warm up?" she asked.
"I'd love to"
"Good, I like to warm up my steps before the actual dance, that way I don't have to think when the time comes."
She stood up taking her sandal off, unsure as to why she was wearing them only to realize she was just a little more naked without them. Even now she wore a robe over her dancing top, hiding her shoulders and legs. Heather stood diagonally to let her wings out. The dance started with slow concentration so deep that, for once, she forgot him. Her moves shrunken, jumping only a few centimetres before touching down silently. She didn't feel the carriage move, if anything she followed with it. She kicked out and touched all four walls with her toes. She blinked awake when her leg was touched by Matthias. He held her by the knee, sliding his hand down her shin with his thumb and middle finger, the others splayed out, he stopped at her ankle. He slowly and deliberately clamped, squeezing hard.
Heather clenched, the pain spread and subsided when he forced his middle and index finger up her ankle to her tendon where he pressed up and down. Heather put an arm around his neck to keep from falling. He wrapped a hand around her waist, it was odd having his arm around her, it was meatier than Black Air Raider arms but softer.
The other slid up her leg slow but with a purpose she could feel. Stopping at her inner thigh left her unsure she could take any further but wished and prayed for it.
She didn't see where his hands went before she was staring into bright blue eyes. They were too much to take in.
He touched the side of her head, his fingertips sinking into her black hair, his palm cupping her cheek. He closed in, she'd seen kissing before, this was kissing, wasn't it?
His eyes were closing. Why were they closing? He wasn't even pursing his lips, he simply had them slightly parted. She went to say something but was too close. In the final moment, she followed suit. He touched his lips to hers and gushed. She was a stack of cards in a hurricane, far, far too old to be feeling such.