It felt strange to dance with Woods again.

He was still as terrible as ever, barley able to set one foot in front of the other without tripping. His pacing was off too and his sense of rhythm was nonexistent.

You smiled softly.

"Some things really never change, huh?", you looked at his face.

He was as stiff as a stone and visibly concentrated on something entirely different than dancing. But besides that he still looked as handsome as ever. Just like your old Woods.

Your voice made him blink.

"What?", he asked and twirled you around so that your back was facing the target. "You really can't stop complaining about me, can you?"

You shook your head.

"I'm not complaining. But it's funny that after all those years and missions, you never learned how to dance."

He shrugged, eyes glued to the target.

"It was never essential."

Chuckling, you corrected his pace.

"Wasn't one of your missions to seduce a lady at a party so that Mason could steal some shit?"

He huffed. A broad grin appeared on his breaded face and a shimmer of pride lit up inside his eyes.

"Oh yeah. But we didn't do a lot of dancing, if you know what I mean.", the grin immediately died down and his gaze jumped to you.

You rolled your eyes.

"Lovely to hear that your stamina is still as good as ever.", you smirked, pretending that comment didn't struck a nerve, and started moving a little faster to get him used to the dance. "Congrats to whoever you're fucking."

He followed your guidance without complain, but still had his troubles to not stumble over his own two, huge feet.

His lips moved every now and then. But his gaze remained looking you up and down.

Red truly wasn't the best colour for you, he had to admit that, but it did help him remember other outfits that you'd worn in the past. Only thinking about it made him swallow hard.

If he would have said you were ugly, he'd be lying. In the end, everything had come down to that personality of yours, that made his own want to explode.

"I'm not fucking anyone at the moment and you probably already knew that, you noisy goblin.", his arm wrapped tighter around you. "But I'll give you props for the sneaky way of asking."

You shrugged.

"Ha. I wasn't even curious."

"For sure, sweet cheeks. I'll absolutely, truly, from the bottom of my heart believe that. For now."

You raised your chin and gifted him a smug grin.

"Because we can't fight on the dance floor?", you asked and placed a kiss on his cheek as he looked to the side.

Caught off guard, he almost stumbled.

"Don't.", he warned, eyebrows knitted together, but his arm pulled you even tighter against his chest. "I'll cause a scene."

You two spun in a circle.

"Oh no, you won't. You never do."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you respect me. You'd never make a scene in front of people. You always keep it private. Less embarrassing."

He smirked.

"I don't want witnesses in case I loose my temper and strangle you."

Smiling amused, you shook your head. Your hand wandered from his shoulder up his neck and came to a rest on his cheek.

Gently, you let your thumb rub over the space between his skin and edge of the greying beard. The thick hair tickled your skin.

It still felt as soft as the fur of a bear.

"Let's be honest, old man...", you brought your face so close to his that your warm breath stroked his lips. "Even though you have issues being violent, I was never afraid that you'd lay a hand on me."

For a moment, Woods held his breath. His eyes were locked with yours, staring as if he could find something deep down inside those orbs of (E/C).

He curled his lips and a low hum escaped.

Then he let out a deep sigh.

"I was never able to tell if you're an idiot or just fucking brave.", he guided you across the dance floor so that the two of you danced next to the target. "But you're wrong. I would have hurt you, eventually."

With a hint of disappointment, you leaned back. It wasn't exactly what you had expected him to say.

His opinion about himself was still as poor as ever. He still believed he was a monster and put blame on himself without deserving it.

He wasn't a knight in shining armour by no means. But be wasn't a monster either.

You firmly believed in your own words.

He would have never hurt you. Not in a thousand years of fighting.

"You really think you know yourself better than I do, don't you?", your hand returned to his shoulder.

Your eyes jumped to the side for a moment, to check out what the man looked like and back to Woods.

A huff escaped him, mocking and cold.

"You don't know shit about me.", he hissed. "The past has shown that. Otherwise, you wouldn't have done what you did."

You bit your lips. A wave of anger got stuck inside your throat.

The end of your relationship had not been flowers and fun. But blaming only you for it was a joke.

"You weren't a gentlemen either.", you argued.

He shrugged.

"I never said I am. But somehow you managed to create a version of me inside your head that was. And when reality hit you in the face, you were so disappointed that you left me."

"We left each other."

A low hiss escaped him.

"Yeah. Because that was the logical thing to do."

You frowned, still trying not to loose your temper.

"Then why are you still salty about it? We both fucked it up. You were a dick, I said shit that is unforgivable. We already settled on that. So? What is left to complain about?"

He swallowed hard. His eyes returned to you.

"Nothing.", he said and for a moment it seemed as if he was regretting dancing with you. "But if we stop fighting, what will be left of us?"