The phonograph was playing, people were drinking and singing, and Dutch was sitting in his lonesome as were you. You caught yourself staring for so long, just wishing he’d ask you to dance… Until.

He got up, and took your hand, bringing you to your feet as he politely asked;

“A dance, My fine lady?”

He asked in a teasing manner, his cold rings brushing against your skin as the warmth of your fingers bled into his.