Chapter Text
It started with an innocent conversation, as all conversations with Kalim tended to be.
“Oh, by the way, congratulations on getting chosen to go to Noble Bell! Ah, there’s going to be all the fun and dancing, I’m a little jealous! I’m sure you will have fun.”
Kalim had caught Azul after a Housewarden meeting for no other purpose than to talk his ear off. Azul smiled politely, “I will try to. Although I’ll have you know, I’m not planning on actually dancing.” He’d even made sure to arrange his role in their surprise performance in a way that would involve minimal dancing, much more confident in his singing.
“You aren’t?!” Kalim looked scandalized. “But – but it’s a masquerade party! Everyone’s going to be dancing! My dad says that all the best deals are made on the dance floor, but I just think it’s the best part of such evenings.”
That caught Azul’s ear. “What… did you say about the best deals?” he asked carefully.
“Oh, uh, something about getting a person all to yourself without risk of interruption and getting to impress them with your smooth dancing while you talk business? I wasn’t really listening, but apparently that’s what they do at those high-end parties.”
Huh.
If it was true, it… posed a problem.
Azul could talk, Azul could mingle.
Azul definitely couldn’t dance.
“Hey, if you need any help, you can always ask Jamil! He’s a great teacher!”
No way in hell. “I’ll keep it in mind, but I think I’ll try someone else first. I know Floyd dances, and Jade might have some insights…”
And with that, Azul made a hasty exit to ponder the problem.
At first he tried to avoid the problem entirely by looking up how important parties and dancing were in human tradition and particularly in the City of Flowers. To his dismay, the dancing culture of the City of Flowers was both complicated and taken very seriously, making Kalim’s claim look rather likely.
Floyd was of exactly as much help as Azul had feared. He had no interest or knowledge in classical dances that would be expected of such an event. Jade smiled and firmly refused to have anything to do with it. Azul had a vague feeling that they were still upset about not being chosen, making them extra unhelpful.
After a week of trying to figure out the steps by watching videos, Azul had to admit defeat.
There was Jamil, obviously, though Azul could think of other options, too. Vil, for example. Or Professor Crewel, but if Azul was going to embarrass himself in front of someone, he was going to choose Jamil any day.
Jamil would say no though, and time was running out. What Azul needed was a foolproof plan, and for that he needed information.
At the next Housewarden meeting, he cornered Kalim. “What does Jamil like?” he asked bluntly.
“Uh, what kind of like are you talking about?” Kalim blinked a few times. “As in, favorite food, or movies, or?”
“Anything,” Azul blurted out, “I just need to know what he likes.”
“Oh, right!” Kalim brightened up. “It’s his birthday soon, you want to get him a gift, don’t you? Well, let’s see… His favorite food is obviously curry, but I’ll have that covered! Then I think I heard him grumbling about how difficult it is to get some spices here… Ah, what were they?”
Azul dutifully listened to the entirety of Kalim’s rambling, making mental notes. Spices were easy – he had connections, he knew where to get the best quality, but would it be a little impersonal? What about jewelry? No, a lot of people seemed to gift Jamil jewelry, if Kalim was to be believed.
A fancy cooking appliance? Clothing? Shoes?
Kalim’s information was frustratingly insufficient.
“Actually, Kalim, do you think you could sneak me into the Scarabia kitchen while Jamil’s not there?..”
And that was how Azul found himself snooping around Jamil’s kitchen while Jamil himself was off playing basketball. Kalim was standing to the side, grinning like an idiot while Azul carefully wrote down the names of spices that were running out, examined the equipment and lamented the fact that he was unlikely to get away with asking Kalim to show him Jamil’s room.
He still had his doubts about the spices. They were for cooking, and Jamil’s cooking was primarily for Kalim; meanwhile Azul wanted his bribe to be, if possible, something Jamil himself would get to enjoy.
Then Azul’s eyes fell onto a coffee pot, simpler and more battered than the rest of the pristine, Asim-sponsored kitchen.
“Does Jamil drink a lot of coffee?”
“Oh, sure! And he makes it so delicious, too! I don’t really know what he adds to it though.”
Plan forming in his mind, Azul turned to Kalim. Jamil himself would undoubtedly clean up after himself, but Kalim…
“Do you have an old coffee mug that hasn’t been washed yet?”
Kalim’s sheepish smile was enough of an answer.
It took four days for the full order to arrive, even with Azul splurging some money on expedited delivery. He wrapped it himself – both to save on the cost and to add a small personal touch – red wrapping paper with darker silhouettes of parrots, a golden ribbon to add contrast, the neatest handwriting Azul could manage on the card.
Azul had thought to wait until lunch break, of even after classes let out altogether, but found his patience running thin way too soon. As soon as the first lesson of the day was over, he went to stop Jamil from leaving.
“Ah, Jamil, pardon me… Could we talk for a moment?” he gripped the box firmer behind his back as he watched Jamil raise an eyebrow, hesitate, and ultimately shrug.
“What do you want?”
Smile. No showing weakness, even – especially – in front of Jamil. “It’s about the Noble Bell invitation, actually.”
Jamil’s eyes narrowed. “Is this about the performance? Can’t it wait until practice?”
“Ah, no, not really… it’s just been brought to my attention that there will be dancing.”
Jamil’s eyebrow inched higher. “Yeah, that’s what tends to happen at masquerade balls.”
Well, there was no need for sass.
“Yes, well, I haven’t been aware of how essential it is to the socialization at such events. And the truth is, I’m not a particularly good dancer, and I’ve been wondering if you’d be willing to tutor me.”
Jamil opened his mouth, and Azul hastily added, “Not for free, obviously.”
He extended the hand with the box to Jamil. “I’m hoping this will be sufficient compensation, but if you disagree, we can figure something else out as payment.”
Jamil looked down at the gift, but made no move to take it.
“Look, this isn’t exactly my area of expertise. Ask Vil.”
“Vil will work me to death until he deems I’ve reached perfection!”
Jamil looked incredulously at him. “And you think I won’t?!”
That… was a fair point. Still, being run to the ground by Jamil seemed like somehow the better deal. Unsure how to convey that, Azul shrugged.
Jamil closed his eyes and exhaled loudly. Azul could perfectly picture the hidden eyeroll and gripped his offering tighter. It was either that, or debasing himself before the Pomefiore folks, and Azul was going to face enough humiliation in the next few weeks as it was.
“Fine,” Jamil finally said. He did not look happy about that fact. “I’ll teach you to dance. Meet me at the gym tonight, we’ll see how bad things are and figure out how much help you need.”
And then he stuffed Azul’s gift in his bag, still not looking at its contents, and left.
Azul felt a little insulted, and very confused. He had spent a lot of time choosing the ornate but functional coffee pot, figuring out the exact spices Jamil would put in his coffee from the five mugs stuck on Kalim’s desk, he upended the market in search for the best beans – and here Jamil was, agreeing without checking the price.
It worked in Azul’s favor, of course, but it was still baffling.
They met again late in the evening, both changed into their gym clothes, although Jamil had some kind of weird heeled shoes on instead of sneakers. Azul decided not to question it.
Jamil puffed up his cheeks and looked Azul up and down. “Okay, like I said, this isn’t exactly my strong suit. It’s far from the style I personally prefer, and the dances I’ve had to attend with Kalim have mostly also been different. A lot of my knowledge of the City of Flowers dancing comes from second-hand sources.”
“That’s quite alright!” Azul hurried to reassure him. “I just… could use some help. Any help, really.”
Jamil snickered, “I’d say it can’t be that bad, but I’ve seen you fly; it probably can.” Before Azul could voice his offense, Jamil clapped his hands together and added, “Alright, warm-up first! Five laps should be enough and then we’ll move onto more specific exercises; go, I’ll set up the music and join you.”
“Running?!” Azul couldn’t believe his ears. “I thought we were here to dance!”
“Yes, and I’d rather not be responsible for you pulling a muscle doing a jump because you didn’t warm up properly. I thought you wanted my help?” Azul nodded and Jamil gestured widely with one hand while his other was busy on his phone. “Then do as I say and you’ll be fine. We did it with brooms, we’ll do it again.”
Energetic music filled the gym, and Jamil threw his hair behind his shoulder and set off in a run. “I won’t be waiting for you!” he called out to Azul, and Azul had no choice but to follow him.
Jamil didn’t wait, but he probably ran twice as many laps as Azul.
“Well done,” Jamil said, and Azul’s desire to complain fizzled out to the extent that he went through the rest of the warm-ups without a word, choosing instead to enjoy the sight of Jamil bending and stretching in preparation for their lesson.
“Alright.” Jamil lowered the music and turned to Azul, all business. “Let’s start with your feet.”
“My… feet?” Azul looked down, puzzled. “What’s wrong with them?” besides their very existence being a product of shapeshifting magic, of course.
“Stand straight, heels together,” Jamil ordered. Then he proceeded to come closer and prod Azul’s feet with his own. “Turn them out. Start from the thighs, your knees should face in the same direction as your toes. No need to go crazy, but try to go as far as is comfortable without bending your knees.”
And then Jamil proceeded to demonstrate, his feet forming a perfectly straight line connected at the heels. Azul tried to copy him, but didn’t get very far until his left hip creaked and Jamil stopped him, “That should be fine. Try to remember this position; your feet should stay at around those angles during the whole dance.”
Azul looked at his feet again. His feet made some vaguely obtuse angle, and the position was distinctly uncomfortable on the joints.
Things would have been so much easier if he didn’t have any.
“For the purposes of this lesson, this is the first position,” Jamil continued explaining.
“For the purposes of this lesson?” Azul echoed, and Jamil sighed, clacking his feet back together.
“Yes. Please never do ballet. Although in fairness, these dances predate modern ballet, so this should be good form…”
“Should be?..”
“Listen,” Jamil sighed, “I told you this isn’t my area of expertise. I’m kind of… stitching stuff together from what I know and what I’ve looked up about the City of Flowers and their dancing culture.”
Azul figured it was in his best interests to shut up. Jamil continued.
“Anyway, there are a few more positions that it would do you well to remember; the angle of your feet shouldn’t change, only their relative positions. Now, watch carefully…”
Azul did. Remembering a few similar stances wasn’t the problem, the problem was actually not falling from them. Jamil made it look effortless, but Azul could feel his already shaky center of gravity swaying with each change.
“Why does it have to be so complicated?” he complained. “I thought dancing was supposed to be about having fun.”
“Did Floyd tell you that? Well… “Fun” is different for everyone. I’m sure with some practice you will find some enjoyment in this, too.”
He didn’t sound too convinced, but Azul conceded.
“Alright, I think I got it. What next?”
“Hmmm…” Jamil looked at Azul’s feet thoughtfully. “I thought of going over some basic steps, but I think we could use some extra practice before that. Put your weight on… say, your left leg. Good. Now, lift your right leg a little – no, keep the toes stretched.”
“I,” Azul gritted through his teeth, “am going to fall.”
“No, you’re not,” dismissed Jamil, but came a little closer and copied the movement, close enough that he could catch Azul should anything go south. “Now, move your leg forward… no rush, make it look pretty… and place it in front of your left foot in the… yes, like that. See, you’re getting the hang of it.”
Azul seriously doubted that.
Several minutes passed like that, until Jamil deemed his form satisfactory. Azul wondered if that was when they would finally get to the actual dancing, but was mistaken once more.
“Okay, first position again… good, you’re not shuffling as much. Now rise up to the balls of your feet.”
“You want me to stand on tiptoes?!” Azul protested. “I’ll fall!”
“Stop being a drama queen, you’ll be fine,” this time Jamil did roll his eyes.
Azul tried, swayed, and fell back to the safety of his heels. “Nope. No, no way.”
“Your panic makes things worse, you know?” Jamil sighed and came closer. “You have good posture, use it – keep your core engaged and tight and you won’t lose balance as much.”
Azul looked at his feet and tried again. It was easy for Jamil to say, but as soon as he witnessed the actual area of his feet that was touching the ground, he felt unstable again.
Two legs were bad enough, now he was supposed to make do with even less?
“Oh, for the love of…” Azul’s hand was suddenly grabbed and he looked up, startled, only to find Jamil directly in front of himself. “There, I won’t let you fall. Lean on me a little – I said a little! Look at me, not your feet. Now, up… and slowly, back down – don’t rush, your ankles won’t thank you. There. See? It’s not that bad.”
Jamil’s hand was a reassuring warmth in Azul’s own, giving him confidence and stability to do as asked. After a few tries, it really didn’t seem as daunting a task as it was in the beginning.
Still, Azul didn’t let go of Jamil’s hand until Jamil took it away.
“That was half-point,” he explained while Azul was catching his breath. “A lot of steps in these dances involve stepping onto the ball of your foot, but you don’t have to rise very high. So long as you avoid putting your weight on your heel, you’ll be fine.”
How very… not reassuring.
“Hmmm… Okay, I think we’ll figure out the arms quickly and then move on to the steps,” Jamil announced. That was good. Surely, whatever was happening with the arms couldn’t be that bad.
Oh, how Azul was mistaken.
“No, argh! Why did I agree to this again? For the last time, they need to be round, not… whatever this sorry zombie impression is.” Jamil looked on the verge of a mental breakdown and Azul wasn’t far behind.
“The bones are straight! How am I supposed to make them look round?” To be fair, what Jamil was showing with his arms really looked like a smooth half-circle. Azul had no idea how he managed that.
“Don’t make me take you out to hug trees. Leona often naps in the greenhouse; is that what you want him to see?”
In the end, Jamil didn’t make good on his threat. Instead, he grabbed Azul’s arms, rearranged them to his liking and repeated that as many times as he had to for Azul to be able to recreate the position on his own.
“Don’t tense up. It will make you bend your wrists too much – from shoulder to fingers, your arms should form a smooth line. Don’t put too much force into it, but don’t relax so much as to drop them – just… be vaguely aware that your arms should be in those positions.”
“That,” Azul gritted out, “is not helpful at all.”
He was ignored.
“Okay. For now that will do. Ugh, we really don’t have the time to do this properly… Oh well. On to plié. That’s simple. Just bend your knees a little, don’t take your heels off the ground.”
Azul tried, and Jamil immediately went to correct him, “Keep your feet in the first position! Remember, knees face the same way as your toes, this is where it will become obvious if they aren’t.”
Azul wasn’t sure if he’d managed to keep his knees where they were supposed to be, because Jamil also kept insisting that Azul looked straight ahead and not at his feet. How was he supposed to do it right if he wasn’t looking?
“Okay, good,” Jamil finally relented. “I don’t think we’ll really need plié from other positions now, but if you want to, you can do that yourself later as a fun little exercise.”
There was absolutely nothing fun about what was happening, but Azul took note.
“Now put your weight on your left leg only – can you raise your right foot? Yes, good. Now do the plié like that, on one leg.”
And on and on it went. In truth, as much as he was grateful for Jamil taking the time to start from the very basics and correcting his form on every turn, it made Azul long for his original body.
Have humans always had muscles in those places?.. Was Jamil using this opportunity to torture him? No wonder he’d agreed so easily.
Finally, Jamil ran a hand down his face. “I think we’ll skip jumps, at least for today. That’s a can of worms I’m not ready for.”
Azul was in full agreement. Sticking to the ground seemed like the best option for now – enough of the moves Jamil had shown him involved standing on one leg already.
“Do you need a break?” Jamil asked, and after listening to his body for a moment, Azul shook his head. If he got a chance to sit down he wouldn’t manage to get up anytime soon.
“Oh Great Seven, give me strength,” Jamil muttered. “I think we’re ready to move on to pas de bourrée.”
Azul nodded, a little offended, but mostly trying to keep his focus on Jamil’s explanation and legs, clad in too-tight for Azul’s comfort leggings. Jamil assumed the effortless first position and started talking.
“You’ll have to be aware of the music for this one, because the actual movement starts on the anacrusis,” Jamil sneaked a glance at Azul. “Just a small plié on one leg, just as we’ve practiced earlier.”
Azul nodded. If Jamil was worried he’d miss the right beat, that worry was unfounded – if there was anything Azul was confident in as far as dancing went, it was his ear for music.
“Then you rise up on one – and a half-point step on two, on three – and again a plié on the half-beat, then repeat from the second leg.”
And then Jamil proceeded to show the full sequence without pauses, only counting the beats out loud before motioning for Azul to repeat after him.
And then they walked across the entire gym with that perplexing step. And then the same step, but sideways. And the other sideways. And backwards.
“Do we really need all of that?” Azul complained. If they needed to go backwards, why not turn around and go backwards? He wasn’t an actual octopus. He couldn’t see behind himself.
“Yes, we do,” Jamil said. “Also now that you’ve figured it out, the menuet step should be a breeze, it’s basically the same elements but in slightly different order and rhythm. One – step, two – plié, three – step, four – step, five – step, six – plié…”
Azul watched. Performed by Jamil, the steps looked effortless, as if he was floating, each plié an accent of the smoothness of his movements. When Azul tried to do the same, he felt like a badly made marionette.
“I really wish we had a mirror here, but we’ll have to make do…” Jamil mumbled. “It would go faster if you could see what you are doing. Pomefiore has the facilities, but I’m not going to be the one to make the arrangements. Do it yourself if you want your life to be easier, or you’ll have to settle with me constantly telling you what’s wrong.”
Azul had little desire to see himself as he fumbled through the dance steps. He felt awkward and unbalanced, and could only imagine he looked even worse.
“Don’t slouch,” Jamil’s hand was suddenly pushing at his stomach and back. “Dances like that are a bit… performative, scenic. The whole point is to look appealing. Head up, torso a little bit forward, shoulders back and down.”
The hand on his back ran up to touch his shoulder blades and the next step completely evaporated from Azul’s mind as he stumbled, thrown off by Jamil’s touch.
“Can you please… not do that when I’m trying to remember the steps?” Azul complained, and Jamil removed his hands, raising them in surrender.
“Listen, you wanted my help and we don’t have a lot of time. How are you going to socialize during dancing if you can’t take even the slightest distraction?”
As if Jamil voluntarily touching him was in any way a small matter. It was too much like an embrace, too much like something Azul had only ever dreamed of.
Instead of saying anything, Azul looked back down at his feet.
Jamil sighed and offered, “Well, let’s figure out this step to the sides and back, and then I can show you the basic menuet figure. That’s a real dance already, so even if you only master it, the evening won’t be a complete flop.”
Azul diligently walked in squares after Jamil, repeating the step in all directions. It really was rather similar to the first step they’d learned, but that made it all the more confusing, and Azul was delighted when Jamil finally stopped and announced the menuet figures.
“I’ll take the leading part for now, that will help you a bit with remembering where to go… anyway, stand facing me – yep, like that. The principle figure of menuet will be kind of… Z-shaped, so you’ll need all variations of the step. So first go… ah, damn.”
Jamil dropped his hands and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t explain the bow. Okay, so you would generally bow at the beginning and the end of each dance. It’s nothing special, but please don’t embarrass me by forgetting it. Put your weight on your left leg, one – step right, this time heel first, two – bow, three – draw the left foot behind the right one.”
“I’m not sure on the particulars of the etiquette required at this ball, you might have to observe the other dancers to make sure. But mostly just don’t forget it and try not to bonk heads with your partner – no need to bow too low.”
Jamil repeated the gesture and nodded at Azul, “Okay, now repeat after me and I’ll explain where we go from there.”
They bowed to each other, and then Jamil proceeded to guide Azul, bar by bar, through the steps of the menuet. “Towards each other – now give me your hand – no, don’t grip it, what the hell, just rest it over mine.”
That was easier said than done. Jamil’s hand was a pleasant warmth under Azul’s own, gently guiding him whenever they were supposed to be making a turn, and all Azul wanted was to lean on it, have it support him like earlier during warm-up.
He did notice that Jamil was doing much more than simply going through the steps.
“What… are you doing with your hands?” he asked as Jamil’s next step was accentuated by an elegant turn of his elbow and Jamil waved him off.
“Don’t worry about it, just focus on your feet – no, I didn’t mean look at them! Keep looking at me – damn, we do need that mirror…”
“But it looks so much better when you do it, can’t you teach me?” Frankly, Azul didn’t mind watching Jamil at all, but he also felt wildly inadequate compared to someone who actually knew what he was doing.
Jamil sighed and stopped. “Look, just focus on the steps for now. You don’t need to learn everything at once, we’ll do hands some other time.”
“The earlier I learn, the more time I’ll have to practice it,” Azul argued. In truth, his arms were tired from trying to keep them in the same position all through the dance, raised a little but never too much. Maybe if he moved them, it would be somewhat easier?
They stared at each other until Jamil gave in. “Fine, but if you start messing up the steps, then no arms for you.”
Azul had to wonder if he meant it as menacingly as it came out.
Jamil stood in front of Azul again, puffed his cheeks and admitted, “I’m not sure how to explain it best, because the arm movements aren’t… set in stone, really? I can give you some pointers for different kinds of steps, but you still need to use your best judgment for what will look good, and the hardest part is coordinating the movements of the arms and legs. That’s where a mirror would have been particularly helpful. Generally, the arms oppose the legs in a way – wrists for feet, elbows for knees, shoulders for hips, left for right.”
Azul huffed. “It’s just two pairs of appendages. I’m sure I can manage.”
He wasn’t as confident as he wanted to project, but at least it made Jamil laugh. “You know what? You’re right. I’m sure it’ll be a breeze for you. Now watch closely…”
And again, Azul had to do round movements with straight arms. It was frustrating him to no end, because Jamil made every bend of his elbow, every flick of his wrist look effortless, natural, while Azul himself kept suffering from what Jamil called a severe case of zombie-arms.
“Relax,” Jamil told him for the tenth time. “You can get away with some jerkiness in the legs, but not the arms. Smooth, deliberate movements.”
“Why is it so complicated,” Azul complained.
“You’re the one who asked for it,” Jamil shrugged and once more, guided Azul’s elbow with his own hands. “Come on, I know you can do better.”
“I’m not so sure,” Azul’s reply was grim. “This sucks.”
Jamil sighed. He turned Azul so they would be facing each other, put his hands on Azul’s shoulders and looked him in the eye.
For a moment, Azul wondered if Jamil would use his unique magic to make Azul dance right. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. At some point, muscle memory had to kick in.
However, Jamil only held Azul firmly by the shoulders and asked, “Okay, what is your problem?”
Azul blinked. “That I can’t dance?”
“Bullshit,” Jamil scoffed, and before Azul could truly feel offended, elaborated, “I’ve seen you at Housewarden meetings, and when you visited Scarabia – you always have that annoying arrogant look on you.”
Azul was very, very lost. “What does that have to do with dancing?”
“Ugh.” Jamil shook his head, the hair ornaments jingling out his frustration. “Like, when you’re in… work mode, or whatever. And you have this posture, you have this… purposeful way of moving. You know how to present yourself. Why the fuck can’t you do the same here?”
Azul couldn’t figure if Jamil was complimenting him or insulting him. Knowing Jamil, it was probably an insult, but Azul liked to think it was both.
And then, as if everything he’d just said was nothing, Jamil let Azul go, took a step back and said, “Whatever. Again.”
And again they danced. Despite Jamil’s unwavering smile, every figure was accompanied by a barrage of criticisms.
“Turn your body towards me more, your attention needs to be on your partner at all times.”
“Hands! Stop raising them above your waist unless you’re doing a gesture.”
“Feet! Turned! Out! How many times do I have to say it?”
“Smaller steps, you wouldn’t want to run into other dancers.”
Azul honestly tried. Making the right gestures during the dance ended up being as easy as he’d bragged; doing the gestures right was a lot harder, as Jamil reminded him at every opportunity.
“What is this? Are you throwing confetti? Don’t bend the wrist so much!”
“You are not trying to elbow through the crowd, you’re trying to look pretty. Lead with the wrist, wider movements.”
It was helpful, but also not – it did nothing to dissuade Azul’s opinion that he was a hopeless dancer, and that any hope of impressing potential business partners at the masquerade ball were doomed to fail. By the time Jamil turned off the music and declared their practice over, he was thoroughly exhausted.
Azul dropped onto the bench with a groan. His calves ached, and he dreaded waking up the next morning and having to go to classes and attending to the Lounge, and…
“You should bring some heeled shoes next time,” Jamil said. “It’ll be easier on your legs if you don’t need to rise to half-point as far.”
“Oh.” So that was what Jamil’s fancy shoes were for. “Couldn’t you have told me before?”
Jamil cocked his head to the side and shrugged. “I honestly didn’t think we’d get as far as we did, much less that there would be a second time.”
Azul’s head snapped up. “Did you think I’d give up, or were you… not planning on continuing?” he asked, and Jamil’s smirk grew wider.
“A little bit of both. But I have to admit, you found some really good coffee, and your progress is ridiculously quick for where you’ve started.”
“Wait, really?” Hadn’t Jamil spent the last hour telling him how bad he was?
“You still have a long way to go, don’t get cocky.” Jamil yawned and fixed his hair with a small flick of his wrist and a slightest wisp of magic. “Which is why we’ll be meeting here again tomorrow. But I’ll be honest with you, this is probably more than should be crammed into a single lesson, and for someone who had no idea what he was doing, you’re holding up well.”
“That’s because you’re an excellent teacher.” It was flattery, but it was also true. Through all the frustration, Azul had still figured out a lot more than he ever had on his own, and having Jamil show him things was an immense help.
Jamil ducked his head and pulled at the strings of his hoodie. “Is that so?”
He didn’t hide himself for long, the shadow of bashfulness replaced with smugly narrowed smiles.
Well, since I’m such a good teacher, I’ll teach you one last thing for today. Still remember the bow?”
Azul nodded, and at Jamil’s nod took the first step to the side in sync with Jamil, only for Jamil to catch his hand and softly kiss it at the bow, before letting go and finishing the step.
“That can also be an option for the bow. You know, just so you don’t get caught off guard at the ball.”
And then Jamil turned and walked away, leaving Azul dumbfounded and breathless.
Tomorrow’s lesson looked a lot more exciting now.