/// sorry, but you just got in my way
i promise honey, i can feel your pain
i promise honey, i can feel your pain
There’s a soft snort of agreement, paired with a sigh as Danta agrees – and while the thought is tempting, Asta knows better than to indulge himself that far. He’d said he was sloppy before, now he doesn’t need a reason to prove it. And besides, being in the confines of the brothel seems to be far more comforting than even he wishes to admit, even if he can’t quite guesstimate to the reaction he’s receiving. (Sorry Danta, Astaroth’s oblivious).
Instead, he settles and the request is made, and Asta watches casually and fully does not expect the touch that occurs to his nose, the warm touch of Danta’s finger briefly as its there a distraction from his gut reaction, which occurs a second later precisely as the Maverick’s hand withdraws out of reach and all you can hear aside from the whispers is the sharp clack of his sharp teeth chomping down on nothing but thin air.
He can’t say much, though, even if his eyes are quite focused on the Maverick’s hands while he makes the drink, lingering even still after the drink is slid his way and he relishes in a sigh – his posture crumbling slightly as if the tension is relieved with the first taste of the delicate sweetness of chocolate amongst the throat burn of the liquor. “Quite pleasant.” He murmurs, realizing he’s zoned out and staring directly at the Maverick’s chest, he clears his throat and lets his gaze drift down to the cocktail.
Instead, he settles and the request is made, and Asta watches casually and fully does not expect the touch that occurs to his nose, the warm touch of Danta’s finger briefly as its there a distraction from his gut reaction, which occurs a second later precisely as the Maverick’s hand withdraws out of reach and all you can hear aside from the whispers is the sharp clack of his sharp teeth chomping down on nothing but thin air.
He can’t say much, though, even if his eyes are quite focused on the Maverick’s hands while he makes the drink, lingering even still after the drink is slid his way and he relishes in a sigh – his posture crumbling slightly as if the tension is relieved with the first taste of the delicate sweetness of chocolate amongst the throat burn of the liquor. “Quite pleasant.” He murmurs, realizing he’s zoned out and staring directly at the Maverick’s chest, he clears his throat and lets his gaze drift down to the cocktail.
Astaroth
and maybe i enjoy it just a little bit
does that make me insane? ///
does that make me insane? ///
