The open field ahead still taunts me. The tall grass and flowers wave at me, the tree wall in the far back. We haven't moved.

Half of the night has left us, yet neither will move. The weight of existence keeps us grounded, stoned to each other. The static shock molds every touching part of us together. I don't want to move, but I have to. The land is telling me to.

"Want to dance?"

He lifts himself up, from having the side of his face against my chest. His beautiful, long, white lashes show under the moon's glow. The white steaks in his eyes are evident and all of him is beautiful, even with the tired showing. "What?"

"I know your ears work. Dance with me."

"Why?"

"The land is telling me to. Look at all that space, and the water with moon shine is right here, it's perfect."

He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

". . .I don't know how..."

"I'll teach you." Excitement bubbles from within me. Dancing is so fun, so is teaching someone how to dance.

"No."

"Come onnnnn, it'll be fun."

"Nope."

I push him off of me and get up, my legs wobble. Oh, this is going to be so fun. "If you don't let me teach you, you're going to fall and break your perfect little nose."

"I have a perfect nose?" He teases.

"My goodness, just get up."

He crisscrosses his legs and folds his hands together atop where his legs touch each other. "No."

"Yes."

"No."

I lean down to grab his hand and pull him up, but something hits the back of my knees and as I fall backwards, every memory in my mind plays at once.

I get ready to fight something but instead, arms wrap around my stomach. Oh. I'm now sitting between his legs with my back to his chest and he has his nose against my left shoulder. This is a first.

"You could have just asked instead of nearly killing me."

"No." His breath is hot against my skin.

The stupid tingling is making me sweat. Why must this happen? Ma and pa said it is a wonderful feeling, not burning. I'm being cooked alive. "You like cuddling?"

"I hate being touched."

"Oh. You let me touch you."

He shrugs.

"I must be special."

"You sure are."

I flick his hand and he grabs my hand, holding it between his. This is so... romantic? "We should be dancing right now."

"Why?"

"Dancing is fun."

"No."

"Says the guy who doesn't know how to dance."

"Because it's not fun."

"You can't say that if you don't know how to dance. Now get up and dance with me."

"Why?"

"Because it's the moral thing to do. We have to be proper."

He sighs before letting go of me and getting up- very slowly might I add. He gives me his hand, I take it, he pulls me up. "Now what?"

I grab the big, fat bag in one hand, his hand in the other and walk ourselves farther from the water, into the open, untouched field of perfection. "We dance." I set the bag down a few steps away, trade out my left hand that's holding his for my right one, put said hand on his shoulder. "Now put your right hand on my back. I'm sure you've seen people dance before."

He shakes his head. His hair isn't as fluffy or soft as before but it's still beautiful. My hands are fried, the middle of my back is tingling the same way my heart does when I heat honey. Oh, I miss honey.

"Not at all?"

"Nope."

"Well, after you learn how to dance, we have to get honey."

"Of course."

"Now, just follow my lead." I move my feet; these stupid boots make it worse. Who dances with boots? He keeps staring at his feet. "No silly, you have to face me."

He snaps up. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Come." I take bigger steps backwards and he follows me, surprisingly smooth too. "See, this is fun."

He raises an eyebrow. "How?"

"I don't know. How are most things fun anyways? They're just fun."

He shakes his head.

"It's the stupid boots not making this fun."

He stops dancing and sighs, I however, almost fall backwards but he keeps his arms around my waist and keeps me up right. "Not everything is the boots' fault."

"Yes, it is. You can't dance with heavy feet; it just doesn't work." I let go of him and take off the stupid boots, putting them beside the bag. I turn around to see him standing in the same spot like a lost child. "Take your boots off, mister."

"My socks will be dirty."

"They're black, it doesn't matter."

He takes off the stupid boots and comes back over. I get us back in the correct position. "Now, just like before." He follows along with me. He seems so concentrated, absolutely adorable. I'm scared to talk, for this is all so nice.

The warmth on my skin, I hope he feels it. Hopefully he is content too. It's all so serene—the gentle, glistening water, the cicadas humming in the distance, and the fireflies dancing around. It's simply enchanting.

"What do you think...?"

He turns from all the scenery to me. He seems happy, for the first time since I've known him. "It's nice."

"Now you finally understand. Those boots are stupid, and dancing is fun."

"I didn't say all that."

"I think you did."

His eyebrows furrow and he flick my nose. "I said no such thing."

"Yessir."

He rolls his eyes.

"You're very pretty."

"I don't wanna be pretty."

"I don't wanna be handsome."

He slightly smiles and leans his forehead on my shoulder, my skin gets warmer. This is insane. Slow dancing shouldn't make someone sweat. The way his horns shine in the moonlight is splendid.

So beautiful here...

A/N: I wonder who got more attention this chapter... the dancing or the stupid boots... Well, how is everyone? Do y'all still like the book? I really like the start of this chapter.