Hex smiled just a little more when he realized Nyx wouldn't realize his 'decorum'. By custom and etiquette, Hex couldn't say thanks for something he didn't find true, but he wouldn't invalidate another. At home, the dance would be familiar. Another Betazoid would know the 'proper' reply so everyone's feelings were soothed.

The more time he spent with Nyx, the more he realized they weren't dancing together at all. They were barely speaking the same language. As uncomfortable as it was to be as direct as the prince, Hex pushed down the instinct that told him every word he spoke was the height of rudeness.

"I like that you're pretty. Prettier than me. I like your hair is soft. I like how you taste. I like when you make the noise when I go..."

He locked his mouth on Nyx's hip and sucked a kiss there.

"I like how you struggle. I like when you hiss," he admitted, kissing him again as nerves overtook him.

"I like you..." Hex whispered against Nyx's skin.

He knew anything else would tremble from his lips.