Mira shivers just a little at the girl's lips against her ear, tipping her head toward her a little, nominally in the interest of hearing her better. Though, truth be told, if the brush of lips to throat had lingered, more intentional, well, Mira couldn't complain, and she lets her mind wander that path for a moment.

She leans up to answer, pressing close in an impulsive moment and spreading her hand wide against her dance partner's back. "I don't know," Mira says with a smile, "I think we make our own destiny."