She lets him handle her any way he wants, knowing he won't harm her; though Elleru is trusting by nature, there's no one she yet trusts quite like Scaramouche. The metal of his hands is always cooler than she expects, his touch a tingling invitation against her smooth skin. It's his body that's warm, and as she leans in to give his cheek a quick peck, she knows can make it all the warmer.

Ah, but she will have to tell him about Rey, and how that changes what they have. Later, perhaps — for tonight, she wants to dance with the fellow who understands the music and what it can do for them, how it can express what words cannot. She brushes her hair to rest across one shoulder, leaving the other bare for his hand.

"With a dance, we may steal the show." She lowers her voice, whispering coyly as she leans closer. "Like thieves."