The steps were so soft they could almost be imperceptible. A soft hum emerged from his throat as his hands raised in the manner one would use to waltz with another. Yet he had no partner; he was on his lonesome. His occasional breath was a soft puff in the crisp air. Before you could approach, his steps slowed and his eyes opened. He seemed… struck. Abashed. He exhaled the ghost of a sigh, picking at the hem of his sleeve. Sirens, hm… is my song so terrifying?
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