The look he gives her is so very measuring. Assessing, as he observes her profile, marks the wisps of loose hair playing about her face, the brightness of her expression. All that he feels for her, Ellis can feel how it stretches in all directions, how impossible it is to get his hands around the edges of it.

And Wysteria, who can be so sharp, will perhaps never look directly at him and see this truth. Ellis could let her carry them along, momentum drawing them past every moment where he might make himself very clear to her.

Though Ellis has never dug his heels in, asked for her attention. It feels like an unkindness, a selfish act. Ellis balks every time, but this—

"There won't be a new choice, Wysteria."

Gentle over the words. I'll manage means something other than finding someone new to dance with.