My feet were starting to ache. Every bend left, every slant right, like a pound of a hammer dispersing through my calves. After a certain point, I just wanted things to move along. My desire to dance has sunk to a rock bottom below rock bottom.
I've exchanged hands with so many people, I'm pretty sure the palms of my hands were now a metropolitan living space for so many various germs. Demon germs, Beastmen germs, Fey germs…
Speaking of which -
"Do you even know how to dance?"
I'm the last person I know I want as an arbiter for dancing, I don't belong on a panel, much less on the dancefloor itself… but when you get partnered with a literal bundle of violet who you knew for sure definitely was no dancing queen, you tend to ask these kinds of questions.
Sera gave her standard universal response to pretty much everything I say - a groan conveying annoyance - and just impatiently seized my hand into hers.