[It's an antiquated dance and Booker personally doesn't find any real joy in the act. However, he does relish in watching Jack's discomfort grow. There was a kind of vulnerability that snuck through him in these moments that Booker found oddly attractive.
And he wanted to know more of it.]
What's that, now? [He hooks his arm through with Jack's own, leading him around the final twirl of the set, graceful and yet boorish.] You've got to speak up. [He bites the words, nearly teasing, against Jack's ear as he moves past him, letting go of his arm - finally - as the orchestra plays the final note.]
no subject
And he wanted to know more of it.]
What's that, now? [He hooks his arm through with Jack's own, leading him around the final twirl of the set, graceful and yet boorish.] You've got to speak up. [He bites the words, nearly teasing, against Jack's ear as he moves past him, letting go of his arm - finally - as the orchestra plays the final note.]