He takes a steadying breath, fingers flexing around Anduin's hand.

Just them.

It isn't, he wants to protest, whatever is making making them dance may well be watching them. Whatever he sees in the mirrors --

But he can't look at anything but Anduin, so it may as well just be them.

Wrathion resists the urge to look at his feet again, allows himself to just... follow. Something harder than it should be, perhaps, but he is trying. He is trying, and... admittedly, he doesn't hate it.

"Not an opportunity we have often," he murmurs. Either being alone or dancing, for that matter.

A thought flickers through his mind, and Wrathion's eyes crinkle in amusement.

"Can you imagine Genn's face?"

He would turn purple. It would be delightful.