somewhere in the between

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

"Ah, I recognise this part at least," Danta trills, sounding pleased with himself as Asta steps in to instruct on the placement of his hands. He resists - barely - the urge to ask whether it matters if his hands are at shoulder level or a great deal lower, obeying instead and resting his arm atop the butcher's to assume what he will henceforth and forevermore refer to as the waltz position. "So far so good," he says with a smile. Then, of course, they get to the dancing part.

And that's a lot more concentration than Danta gives it credit. Not wanting to have his face permanently tilted down to watch their feet, he does his very best to pay close attention to the movements of their feet as Asta demonstrates, blessedly slowly, what steps they need to take. And if he's muttering one, two, three under his breath as they go as well, listen, it's because he's trying to actually do well.

It seems to be going reasonably smoothly, too, Danta flicking his eyes down every other step just to ensure he's moving correctly. After another few 'waltzes' he feels confident enough to flash a fanged grin Asta's way - which is exactly when he steps forward when he should be stepping back, and the two Ancients will collide comically with one another. "Ow," Danta says through laughter. "Sorry."

Dantalion