"I'd rather die than live without you."

"Then die."

Frank Sinatra blasted throughout the house as the entity danced within his vessel, gliding around stair railings and hopping over chairs and tables. The house shook with the sounds of pianos and trumpets, causing the furniture to give out hushed rumbles as their legs jolted against the hardwood floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Noah asked, finally emerging from the dark depths of his room, eyes half closed.

"Flying to the moon... come with me," HABIT purred, grabbing Noah's hands and pulling him in close. He backed into a lamp, clumsily knocking it over. "Whoops," he smiled, looking at Noah's annoyed expression. "Come on, loosen up!" They twirled around the room, HABIT's feet moving in tempo with the music, while Noah was clumsily flailed around by the former body of Evan.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Dragging me around and trying to get me to dance."

"Because, Noah, you need something fun in your life. It's been a living hell ever since Stick-In-The-Mud started following you, hasn't it? I just want you to forget about that nuisance and dance to this wonderful music with me. Is that too much to ask?"

He sighed. "Fine."

And with that, they were off. With one swift pull, Noah was in the entity's arms, his hips hesitantly swinging in motion with his partner's. He put his arms around HABIT's shoulders, the brightness in his eyes overshadowed by an early morning glaze.

"Don't pretend you're not enjoying yourself," HABIT chuckled, glancing down at the remnants of a smile traced onto Noah's lips.

"It's a bit hard to when it's six in the morning," he groaned.

"Come on, stop complaining so much and just dance," HABIT smirked, spinning Noah around.

"Fine, you win. I'll dance with you."