With your hand in hers, Arlecchino spins you around her. Her hand gripping your waist is gentle and warm, with her nails almost digging into the fabric of your clothes. Her heels drifted enchantingly on the marble floor, each movement with utmost grace and poise. Despite the threatening glare, her eyes—which was focusing on this ballroom dance—made your heart flutter inside of your chest.

Arlecchino was such an alluring dancer, no wonder why people were weary of her especially those in the Fatui. Except her fellow harbingers, such as yourself, she was still a formidable opponent. But now is not a battle, but a dance of mutual love.

She continues to move around the ballroom, the atmosphere was cold yet held a sense of serenity and security. Her lips brush against your earlobe as you slowly descend near the floor.

"Enjoying yourself aren't you, dear?"