"C'mon, one dance!" Opie chucked lazily getting up from his chair as you dragged him to the dancefloor in your big gorgeous gown, asking him to dance with you at a quince. He looked good, hair slicked back, in his black tuxedo, a little rose tucked in his front pocket as he kept his young fierce air very well, strong hands wrapping around your waist as he moved swiftly. "You look real good tonight." He purred, smirking smugly.