A Silent Waltz

In the corner of the depth of the ballroom stood a monochromatic man, grasping tightly at the flute of champagne that rested in his hands.  Yama's face looked pissed, as if anyone who approached the man would be met with hostility, yet despite his rather angry looking facial expression, he body language was more relaxed.  Shoulders slack, and hands idly toying with flute, as opposed to drinking the contents it held.  

Perhaps he should be out mingling once more, but the tailor was a bit more on the reserved side, finding it difficult to idly chat with strangers.  He was as sociable as those in the higher society seemed to be, hell if he could be anywhere but here the tailor may very well be.  The only reason he had arrived at the event was at the request of his ex, nowhere to be seen at this moment.  While Yama had toyed with the idea of looking for said ex, he figured keeping space between them was the best course of action for now.  

Argh, what to do, the man could only let out a hefty sigh before downing the contents of his glass. 

Another Doll stood off to the side in the ballroom, a bit out of place. Epsilon's little rouse had worked yet she didn't know how. After all, the letter was quite poorly done at a second glance. She just had to thank her lucky stars that it worked. All that she knew was that she would be here until her bag burst from the items she had 'acquired'. Most of her haul consisted of fancy silverware, and plenty of food she had wrapped up with napkins. After all, what was the purpose of going to a fancy Gala if you don't leave with souvenirs? She wasn't even sure if her little plan would work in the future so she'd need to make the most of her time.

'Ugh... these heels....-' 

 She said with a bit of frustration. Her choice of footwear was gorgeous but she had minimal experience in wearing them. With a sigh, she pushed herself off the wall, heels clicking against the tile of the ballroom as she walked over to the corner. She spied another doll, once standing in the corner. Suddenly, she stood in front of them. "You look like you're enjoying yourself." She spoke with her typical sarcastic tone.

“Sarcasm.” Yama replies to her quip, eyes glancing up to spare Epsilon a glance before turning his attention back to the flute between his fingers.  He seems like he’s going to ignore her, like he’s going to just wait for her to leave on her own, leaving him to brood with his alcohol.  But, with a sigh, Yama is addressing her again, “You’ll have to forgive me for looking so unenthused.  That would be my face.”  Said expression doesn’t change as he looks to Epsilon once again.  He had heard it many times before, his expression had a habit of intimidating others, Epsilon didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it, or if she was she hid it pretty well.  

“I’m actually having a lovely time, or I was...” Yama’s sentence trails off, casting a wayward look to the dance floor.  It doesn’t seem like he was going to elaborate on that, deciding to keep any other thoughts to himself.  Now was not the time for fretting, he should be polite, or at least as polite as Yama could be with his personality.

“My speciality.” Epsilon replied flatly, her tone matching her expression or whatever could be made from it. She raised her eyebrow as she listened to him speak. "I see, I see.”  She nodded, leaning back against the wall for a bit of support. She had a similar demeanor. The inability to see her eyes clearly through her hair made understanding her true expression quite difficult. Her mouth almost always pressed into a line or a small frown.

"Ah..." Epsilon heard the tone of his voice as his sentence trailed. She wasn't one to pry into the lives of others. It wasn't her place to begin with. She, herself, hated it. Simply refusing to talk. She adjusted her stance, shifting so her heels were in a bit more of a comfortable position. She wasn't the most socially adept person. "Well...-" She wasn't quite sure how to proceed. "Name's Epsilon. Guess you should know."

“Epsilon.”  Yama echoes, as if repeating her name would help him remember it.  He toys with the idea of not replying in kind, names didn’t always need to be exchanged.  But, perhaps that was too rude.  So, with a sigh Yama offers his name as well, “Yama, pleased to meet you.” The tailor gives the curtsy of bowing, but does not offer a hand to shake, there was no need.

A moment of silence befalls the pair once more, both the buns seem the type to idle in silence, neither the social type.  Even so, they had both been at a rather social event.  

Yama cast another sparing glance to the dance floor, before turning his attention back to Epsilon.  “Well, miss Epsilon, would you care to join me for a dance?”  It would provide a distraction if nothing else.  As the question is posed to her, the tailor extends a hand for Epsilon to take.

"You got it." She responded as he repeated her name. She nodded her head as he spoke, listening intently as he introduced himself. She would most likely forget it. She was always bad with names.

She glanced at Yama with a slightly awkward look. She shifted once more.  

Epsilon looked at his outstretched hand. She wasn't much of a dancer yet she had decided to go to a gala. A rather 'dancey' one at that. But she could learn. She peeked at the dancefloor before taking his hand. Her tail flicked behind her absentmindedly.

The two buns were similar in many ways, be it their expressions, which held a lack of warmth, or both their preferences for saying very little unless necessary.  While some may think Epsilon cold, or perhaps brash, Yama had not formed that opinion.  He hadn’t formed much of any opinion, just that he enjoyed the silence, and enjoyed the distraction from his worrying mind.  

Truth be told, the tailor wasn’t the best dancer either, at the very least he wouldn't step on Epsilon’s toes, leading the two in a slow and gentle sway to the music that filled the halls. They didn’t have to exchange words as they danced, Yama didn’t seem like he was going to force any words from her mouth, filling the role of his more stoic nature. He leads the pair in their dance, he can tell Epsilon wasn’t much of a dancer so they weren’t going to try anything crazy, just mimicked movements of the other dancers. 

Epsilon stumbled to the dancefloor, following behind the other Bun. She left a bit of a distance before they stopped to prepare to dance. "I will warn you, I'm not the greatest." She replied, looking up at Yama. To say that she wasn't the greatest would be the understatement of the century. She had two left feet even off the dancefloor. She tripped over her own two feet more often than not.

Thankfully, the song was a slow, gentle tune. Not requiring her to do more than a few steps and sways. She mostly followed her partner's movements, her dress swishing gently. She was a bit too focused on making sure she didn't embarrass Yama, or herself, to speak to him or to make it any less awkward.

The tailor keeps his hold steady on Epsilon, he doesn’t mind the silence, and doesn't find it awkward.  But, as their slow movements continued on, he thought that perhaps Epsilon found things to be awkward.  While everyone else had loose movement, he could see that Epsilon’s movements were more on the stiff side.  It’s not like his dancing was extraordinary either. 

No words came to mind to share, no real desire for any small conversation between them, Yama’s lips remained sealed. He’d keep them from bumping into any other couple, they’d have their pocket of silence.

Yama wouldn’t let it carry out for any longer than it needed to, their quiet dance.  The song would eventually come to an end, and Epsilon would be put out of her awkward misery.  With the end of the song, the tailor pulls away from them, releasing Epsilon from his hold.  It provided a good enough distraction for the time, but it was time to go their separate ways.  The tailor still had some things he had to sort.  

The man takes a few steps back, addressing Epsilon, “Thank you for the dance.” Just like that, the man Epsilon had shared a few words and a dance with was vanishing into the busy crowd of gala. He left with only his thanks, the man evidently wasn’t a very personable one.  Perhaps they’ll meet again some day, but there was no telling if either Epsilon or Yama would remember the other.