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The only natural response to that, with Belladonna being as serious as she could, was to pout. Or well, not really pout so much as give the boy an unhappy little purse of lips. It lessened when he stood and the witch sat up, curious as to his movements. When a hand was extended to her, Belladonna considered for a split second continuing to be serious, to take things as matters meant to be thoroughly considered. But his smile was enough to melt those thoughts completely as she placed her hand in his and left the bed.
"A dance?" She asked with a laugh, already coming back around to her normal self. "Oh don't worry about that!" The witch cooed as she padded across the room to where her eyepod sat happily in its dock. She had to prod the thing a few times before it awakened, but after giving it a little tickle, it turned on its shuffle. The song that played was slow, a little melancholy, but almost too perfect to dance to. It began slowly, so that they could gain their feet, each other's rhythm and when it grew stronger, it was still slow enough that no toes were in real danger of being stepped on.
More than willing to oblige Mort in a dance, Belladonna was under him in a second, one hand on his shoulder, the other holding up his hand as a proper, waltz dance should be. Her smile was bright, excited to have this. It had been a bit disappointing (though she would never, ever dare tell Mort about it) that they hadn't actually gotten to dance at prom. Even one would have been more than enough to sate her, but it had been too crowded, too loud and the couple had been driven out early. The witch still held the hope that one day they could reuse their outfits she had worked so hard on, because they were gorgeous works meant to be seen. That and Mort had looked so dashing it would be a waste to never use them again.

Content to sway in a softer, slower version of a waltz (because Belladonna was honestly completely out of touch with how people her age danced now days), it was good that her room was spacious enough to allow such an action. The whole thing was dripping with romance, enough that Belladonna was beginning to feel a little better about this whole situation. Only a few hours before she had been devastatingly upset and now she was twirling around her room as though nothing had ever been amiss.
"Thank you... For dancing with me." She murmured softly, face slightly flushed from the sheer romance of it all. Real boils didn't do this, weren't aware of the ridiculous romance cliches. But here Mort was, obliging her like always. It was a little unfair really. He always did such lovely, nice things for her and when she tried to repay him, it soured upon contact. Maybe after all this time it really was she who was cursed...
In any event, she only sighed with a strangely tired smile, glad to finally have one true moment of bliss, untarnished by anything. There was nothing that could go wrong with such a small thing, and while the witch had long given up the idea of perfect, at least this moment could be close enough to mean something.

Thankfully for Belladonna she was able to lead this dance, though she would never tell Mort it was because she had learned to waltz from her sisters. Though they had all fought constantly their entire lives, they lived far out in the country and didn't have anyone but the other to play with. So when Delphinium began to take an interest in dancing, she had taught her younger sisters to waltz with her. Each witchling had to take a turn at leading, but because Belladonna was youngest, and therefore more easily coerced, she often became the leader. Even though through out the entirety of their youth Belladonna had remained the shortest, she would always end up leading. Even now, as the song faded in the background, the witch could recall the image of she and her sisters twirling in the fields around their home, each laughing as twilight descended over them, happy if only for a moment.
The soft 'mrrr' woke the witch from her memory, though she had to blink a few times to fully erase the feel of dead grass from bare toes.
"Another." Belladonna whispered, as she snapped her fingers and the eyepod hastened to play her another song.

This one was slow too, though it had a bit more heartache in it even when the words were kind, hopeful. This time, Belladonna lead them faster with the swells and slower with the lulls, in tune with the song more than she cared to admit, especially after hearing it from a dear chupacabra friend.
Though the height difference made the witch have to heft her elbow higher to keep her hand gently resting on Mort's shoulder, Belladonna only smiled up at him as they twirled, though it was soft and lacked the overwhelming brightness she usually contained. This one was gentler, a smile she had seemed to save for years before he'd come along.
It was a little embarrassing to lift her voice in song as she only ever did it by herself (or with Binx), but Belladonna felt at least confident enough to join in on the chorus a few times, though she kept her eyes down when she did so.
Words kept popping into her mind, words that expressed feelings she wasn't prepared, or felt she should have felt, to uncover yet. She told herself it was just the dancing, the romantic notion of it all, but she closed her eyes and leaned forward to press her temple to his chest, Belladonna wasn't entirely sure. It wasn't a bad thing, for it was something fluttering in her chest, small and bright and ready to burn her up and leave her shiny and new should she let it, but the witch didn't want to go it alone.

Perhaps it had become a haze-dream, a fabrication of real life where the edges had gone fuzzy so that the lights were dimmed, where all the hurts had ebbed into just a dull ache, easily forgotten if the other could be so easily touched. Just a simple brush of fingertips against the side of Mort's neck and already Belladonna had forgotten how easily she'd slipped under the black earlier that day, or the overwhelming feeling of melancholy she had let herself fall prey to for the past week. It didn't matter, nothing mattered. It seemed so paltry, a child's game compared to this, which was such a simple thing she should have felt those ought to be switched. But she didn't, not one bit.
Seamlessly the next song began, a bit deeper, darker, but somehow uplifting the more it continued on. The witch had begun to lead them into a more upbeat waltz, but when Mort broke their contact only to pull her closer, Belladonna certainly she didn't have the heart to fight. It was an easy song to sway to, still slow but soft enough to let talk quietly amongst themselves.

A strange shiver ran down the witch when he spoke, one that began in her hair and worked its way down. It caused her fingers to curl, "Thank you. But you sing well too, you know." Belladonna told him, her cheek pressed to the place his heart should be. No heartbeat reached her ears, only quiet music that drifted from all around them. But it was no matter, the heartbeat was irrelevant. What mattered was that soft, ever present whirring. It was a sound she had almost fully forgotten about, so constant and soft, but now that she was concentrating, she could ever so gently pick it out against the sounds.
"Of course. I... I do not do it often, and never in front of others. I shall have to find you another song to sing for you." It was a paltry offering, small and silly. Belladonna just wanted to talk to him, to give him something, anything. "I think I recall mentioning that you should sing for me too, naturally."
Uncertain of what else to do, the witch turned her face toward him and once more pressed a kiss to that empty spot. There was little else to do but sway to the song, but she did angle her head up a bit to look up at Mort. A heady emotion overtook her then, a thing that made her want to cry and laugh all at once. Unsure of what else to do, she offered him another smile, teeth clenched over the emotion that threatened to burst out of her without consent.

As a show of goof faith, to prove that she truly loved all his speaking quirks, especially his little rumbles of sound, the witch pressed another kiss to his chest. As for his lack of bursting into song, Belladonna only smiled to herself a bit. Naturally she didn't mean right away, just whenever. A gentle reminder that she hadn't forgotten, especially not after his performance. It had been so heartfelt and wonderful that, like with most things involving Mort, the witch simply wanted just a little bit more.
For a few moments more it was nice just to sway with him, but once the piano interlude hit, Belladonna noticed the little bit of concern cross his face. No, this... Nothing was supposed to dampen this mood! A small look of worry crossed the witch's face at his words, words that made her wonder about her own musical choices. Were they subconsciously chosen because of their relation to what was going on in her own life? Even though they were sad, they had uplifting messages, hope at the end of their notes.
The way he trailed off made her wonder, made her worry.
"...But they make you hurt?" She asked, hardly above a whisper as a hand reached up to press at his jaw. It was a small gesture, as tender as she could make it but still let him know she was here.

"I don't... I don't want it to hurt." As slowly as she could, as the music changed to something equally melancholy but not in the same manner as the other ones, Belladonna reached up on her tip toes. His comment went unanswered, as the witch leaned in closer. "I'll heal what I can if you let me..." And with that she closed the distance between them with an equally soft kiss. Her words were meant as a gesture of kindness, of her want to actually help him in some way. They'd been through so much, and her magic grew stronger each day, she had become an ace at healing herself. It couldn't be difficult at all to heal another! Even if the healing was metaphorical, the witch was certain she had the capacity within her. Maybe everything Mort had suffered couldn't be erased, but Belladonna felt, however naively, that perhaps she could at least lessen the darkness that clouded him. Even a little, she would take that.

A strange sort of cheerful surprise colored the witch as Mort returned her kiss and feeling altogether too infused with such a romantic moment, she wrapped her arms about his neck and didn't at all feel bad about the fact that she pulled him down a little further to her or that she pushed up a bit to him. When it was over, she didn't feel a bit of sadness, glad for the break in which to breath and smiled happily when his forehead met her's. An equally warm smile met his, though the witch did let the smallest little laugh out as his glasses slid down to her. Doing her best to cut down on some of the distance, the witch rose up onto her tip toes, where her center of gravity naturally rested.
Yet at his comment, the witch let out a bright laugh that made her momentarily break their forehead touch. She threw her head back to laugh, not even bothering to feel embarrassed that it was too loud for such a fragile moment.
"I do so apologize, darkling. I had not meant it as me trying to dissuade you into the act." She told him as she ducked her head back and up to his. One finger delicately pushed his glasses back so she could better peer into his eyes, her own taking on just the littlest of mischievous gleams. "Romantic, hmmm?" The witch asked, the hand that had replaced his glasses now snaking around to tousle his hair.

It could not be said by any stretch that Belladonna was stupid, though she might play the part exceptionally well at times. So it was totally and wholly obvious to her that their moment that had been so soft and sweet and tender, was slowly, like the rising of some celestial body that takes its time and rushes not one thing, was beginning to morph. At the back of her neck, where her spine curved up and her hair touched the spot, the witch could feel something rising up around them, a new emotion, heady and heavy.
A new song struck up, totally devoid of words, only deep sounds and melodies, of which Belladonna felt played a bit more to her favor.
The tall zombie she held in her arms could sway one of two ways, and Belladonna was going to work as hard as she could to make this moment as near to perfect as she could.
Carefully, as though he were a creature she might startle away if she moved too fast, Belladonna's fingers curled into Mort's hair, fingertips careful to be light as she idly played with the strands she'd found.
Unsure of what else to do, the witch lowered to stand flat footed, though she angled her head and paused for a moment before she pressed a soft kiss to the boil's neck. Everything was slow, careful because the witch knew anything too quick would shatter this moment. It was a gamble really, as at any moment she could break everything and all the glass of this perfect little scene would come crashing down around them and leave them more bruised up and cut and battered than before. But it was at least worth a shot, and Belladonna never did anything halfway.

Another, albeit smaller, laugh was Belladonna's reply to being accused, for she didn't really have much else to say. There was certainly no way she could counter that, not when he felt a bit more talkative than she.
She was content to press one more kiss to his neck, right at the stitches, before she was pulled away. With a blink Belladonna looked up, momentarily caught up in her own moment to fully realize that Mort was being playful. For a moment she was hurt, afraid she had done something wrong and had pushed too far with something so little that it wasn't until she noticed the twinge of a smile before the worried look dissolved from her face.
"The weather?" She asked, still so full of heady emotion that she had yet to catch on to what exactly it was he was getting at. With her hands suddenly in the air, one having dropped to his shoulder, Belladonna only swayed in a confused manner before her cheeks reddened.
Sneaky snake!
"The weather has been lovely..." She commented finally, heaving a nonchalant sigh. "Though it had been a bit warm... Especially in this room. I think I might take off this hoodie, I am rather warm." To show this she flapped a hand at herself, though that devilish gleam had grown in her eye.

Here have any VSQ Gaga song When a new, more upbeat song started, Belladonna looked up at him and tried her best to get rid of that devil's smile. It had to be so painstakingly obvious what she was up to, and maybe Mort was being polite by not totally pushing her away. But, somewhere deep inside, Belladonna had to think that the fact that he'd only pulled her into a waltz and not away because he wanted it too. Or at least to be chased a little. And the witch certainly didn't mind obliging.
Both hands left the waltz position and instead slid to his chest, where she gave him what she had deemed a sultry pout.
"Aren't you warm with this jacket on? I've been close to you this entire time, you're probably burning up!" Sneaky fingers edged closer to the sides, as though she were coaxing it off thread by thread rather than all at once. It was meant as a bit of a chase, but also to give him time to stop her.
Rather unfortunate really, the witch suddenly found, that he was always saying no and then wondering why she never did. Almost everything that had gone wrong for them had because of her inability to deny him, when he could so easily negate her.
Scared of that thought because it threatened to ruin their moment that carefully hung in the balance, Belladonna instead pressed a kiss to his collar bone, right above the line of his t-shirt.

Surprise seemed the only thing to dim that little impish gleam in the witch's eyes, and when she was able to fully pull his coat off, the gleam all but disappeared. Unsure what to do now, Belladonna let go of the coat and watched it crumble to the floor. It was so unexpected that she only stared at it for a moment, before she looked back up at Mort. Was he...?
Bruise colored cheeks indicated that this was something he enjoyed, but when he spoke Belladonna wasn't sure what to do. Her heart hammered in her chest as the strangest feeling invaded her body, something she wasn't used to because it was scary and meant taking an even scarier step.
"I-I know..." She told him as both hands returned his chest and she reached up on tip toes to give him one last kiss. It was impossible to keep the look of disappointment from her face. "I don't know what I want. I just want you... In whatever way I can get."

But all the same she heaved a sigh and dropped down from her toes. With the sudden change in height she ended up staring at his neck, but she didn't bother to raise her eyes, only let them go a bit unfocused as she looked at him without seeing him. That weird feeling rose up and she bit back the words, but they didn't stay inside where she wanted them. Instead they left her mouth and with each syllable she could feel the moment cracking. Willingly she destroyed it and thought to herself that maybe that's why they kept hurting the other, because they liked the sound of cracking glass, of shattering enjoyment as it crashed to the floor.
"Its just easier to hear 'no' a bit later after I've gotten to have you a little instead of asking and hearing it before I can even touch you."
Once they were out, Belladonna winced and pulled a hand away, as though she had burned herself on him. But wasn't that really it? She always pushed too close, wanted to touch the fire and was surprised when it rejected her and burned. Like a petulant child, she simply never learned.

The recoil had been so instinctual that Belladonna quickly replaced her hand, though she kept it balled up, as if she really had hurt her palm. A moment of silence stretched out between them and she bit down on her lip, waiting for the inevitable. Really, she should just go ahead and pack up her things while she had the chance, prepare herself for the heartbreak and let it go. Naturally prone to dramatics, the witch took a deep breath right before Mort began to speak so Belladonna was left holding her breath. Yet at that particular word she let it go in a whoosh that caused her face to flame up into a bright red and made her eyes go wide. Her mouth remained slightly open as he continued, but she only stared up at him until he finished. Had she been aware of the perplexed look she was giving him, or had she even been mindful of how frozen she was as she stared at him, Belladonna might have tried to handle this with a bit more ladylike grace.
As it were, when he finished speaking and it was her turn, she still waited one more tick before she let out a shrill little note.
"Has that been it? That you think I want... That from you?!" Her voice had gone a bit higher than normal, her face a bit more red than usual. "Oh Mort, dearest, I thought I had told you not for a very long time... I completely understand about... You..." It was best to put it as delicately as possible so she wouldn't offend him. Weren't most boils horrifically sensitive about their manly bits? "I do so apologize for sending a mixed message... I..."
Unsure of what else to do, the witch did what she did best; And that was to laugh.

Already embarrassed enough to be a bright shade of red, the witch took a side step away and dropped her face into a hand, while the other remained anchored to Mort's chest. It was just so ridiculous that she had to laugh for a few moments before she could face him again. After all this time of her thinking he didn't like her, or wasn't attracted to her, or any other number of ridiculous things... Just mixed signals!
Laughter certainly wasn't the best reply, so Belladonna tried to cut the laughter off before too long or it would seem ridiculous. Finally she was able to force it into a few giggles before she turned back to Mort, all that worry having leaked from her as she laughed.
"I don't want that from you. Not now at least." Because obviously one day they'd overcome that hurtle, whether or not he really wanted to confront such a problem or not. "Right now I just... Want to flirt and kiss you and dance in my room like nothing horrible is going on. I want to make out with you on my bed and do whatever you want that isn't that because we did get to second base, so its not like that is off limits."

Oh, oh Hecate she had rambled a bit. The blush that had vanished returned to her cheeks and not sure what else to do, Belladonna giggled again and dropped her forehead to his chest. Sure, she wanted to kiss him right now, but well, she'd let him have his say before she went about throwing him against any stable piece of furniture and having her, more or less, way with him.
But the moment that she was sure she'd ruined had instead merely morphed into something warm and comforting, like a good cup of tea. Maybe there was still some hurt somewhere along the way, but for now everything was going to be alright. For now, the witch had not broken the moment or destroyed the precious thing she had worked so hard to cultivate between them.