By the time the last dance ended, an energetic foxtrot, Max was starting to hit his limit, strawberry-blonde hair darker with sweat as he sat on the floor, legs out in front of him as he was so tempted to just fall back and lie there. If anyone was close enough, they’d have seen he was close to panting with the sheer effort all of that had taken.<br/><br/>Like Olivia, he didn’t have enough focus or even breath in his body to come up with some remark. Although, he was kind of impressed that she could keep up - did that count? A backhanded compliment at best.<br/><br/>It was rare that he’d been forced to do that, forced to dance and forget everything else. It was rare, but he’d done it more times than he cared to imagine.