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He found it funny--when humans pictured fairies, they often made art depicting them as twirling, silk-bound dancers, and yet here he was, with two left feet and completely lost on the graceful art of even simple box steps. In the opinion of his fellow fae, it made him no less of a fairy, but to the humans, he might be comparable to a winged bug. And, well, given that their opinion was a matter of life or death, Mumbo wanted to learn. So, he turned to his beloved Stress, and, as it turns out...
...dancing is much harder than he'd thought.
"One, two. One, two. Come on, Mumbo! You can do it!" Stress cheered, fluttering her wings behind her back, flaunting a glittering grin. It was safe to presume that the dejected male had not near as much enthusiasm as she. But he continued, wrapping his hand back around the bend of her waist and retaking her hand with a roll of his eyes. She resumed her counting, leading him to step in a box formation as they (albeit very slowly) twirled around the jungle floor outside of the skull, thick undergrowth brushing against their ankles.
Maybe it was a bad idea to try to learn. She winced as Mumbo stepped on her foot for what might've been the twelfth time that day, but smiled at him anyways and continued teaching. Poor girl's going to lose a foot trying to teach me. Her eyes glimmered lovingly as she looked up at him. Their height difference wasn't much, he was about the same height as her brother, Doc, if not the same height, but to an onlooker seeing a shorter woman leading someone of his height must've been odd.
An apology burst from his throat before he could stifle it, "God, I'm sorry."
She made a small sound of surprise, obviously startled as her counting faltered. "What for?" she inquired, not letting him break the dance despite him trying to pull away his hand.
"Look at us." With the one hand he could pull away, he gestured with a sweeping motion to the jungle, allowing his hand to drift up to the night sky, and finally dropping down to point at themselves. He cracked a small grin. "It's 2 a.m. and I've dragged you out of bed to teach me how to dance." She snickered at the comment, but didn't attempt to interject as he continued. "We've been at it for hours, but all that's changed is the ache in my knees. You need your beauty sleep!" She pulled her hand away, bringing it to her chest in mock offense.
"As if I need sleep to be beautiful!" she cried. He didn't quite catch onto the joking tone immediately, face flushing in embarrassment and swift panic at the 'misunderstanding'.
Mumbo opened his mouth to defend himself before seeing the softness settle back onto her face. Stress looped a hand around the back of his neck, pushing down and causing him to lurch forwards to meet her eyes, subsequently dropping his pose and halting their dance. She grabbed his face and pecked the bridge of his nose. "Don't worry about it, love," she whispered, staring into his deep ochre eyes. "I enjoy spending this time with you." She smiled.
"Even if it breaks your knees?"
"Even if it breaks my knees."