Don't be sorry. [ Even though he gets the feeling that Jeremiah isn't actually. Call it a hunch. ] I do still want to dance with you.

[ He reaches up with his free hand, trailing a finger up the line of the cravat Jeremiah from where it's tucked up to his neck. Though he's tempted, Abel avoids tugging at it to pull the taller man even closer still, instead sliding his palm to rest flat on his shoulder, just about where it would be if they did get into a proper form. ]

I've always led. But, like I said, I also never enjoyed myself very much with it before.