Mark could only cross his arms over his chest like he always did as you insistently tugged at his arm.

Upon your pleading, he'd let you drag him along to a party—your family's—and it's the first time he's met your parents and family. He's... nervous. On the inside atleast. He'd never let it show on the outside.

"Your mom is watching us—" Mark murmured, his tone low and smooth as his gaze flickered between you and your observant mother. "I don't think she'd be impressed by my horrible dancing skills."

It was his little attempt at a joke. However, it did hold some amount of sincerity to it. Dear God, Markus Sebastion Grayson could not dance for the life of him and you were entirely aware.