Rose could only nod meekly, utterly flustered, her resistance crumbling under his confident gaze and physical proximity.
She was trapped, but not entirely unwillingly. Klaus began to move, carrying her across the polished ballroom floor, his steps precise and powerful, guiding her with an effortless grace that belied his earlier drunken demeanour.
They moved as one, a seamless, flowing unit, the centre of all attention.
They were so close that their breaths grazed each other, the warmth of his body radiating through her gown.
Rose's heart beat so fast that she thought she could almost faint. The dance was scandalous, yet undeniably captivating.
The Paragons, from their elevated vantage point, observed the scene with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
They just shrugged it off, a collective unspoken understanding that this was merely the young generation displaying their quirks.
