Flirting is a dance. 

A delicate balance of movements and grace using body language and words.

A lie within a lie within a lie.

You know it's effecting you when you're hyper aware of your pulsing heart.

You wonder if your nails are the right shape or whether he can hear your thoughts

You are naked under his glance, and meeting his eyes would spell destruction

His voice is vocal majesty, the voice that lured the men of Odysseus to the deepest depths. 

He dances very well, while I am stumbling through each step. 

Half lidded eyes and a lazy smile are enough to undo me, yet he remains calm and composed.

I never was one for dancing.