Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
Asta hums a little with Danta’s response, puffing a little sigh out from his lips. “She always pissed me off though. If I’d known you weren’t just a mini her, perhaps we could’ve done something.” He shrugs as Danta gets that far away look, and he sits up rather abruptly as the Maverick’s mask slips and the blonde stands, aiming to take his leave, making a quip about the bar. At least here he doesn’t have to face anyone else.
“I was basically done anyway.” He says in response, shifting to roll to his feet in turn, drawing himself up to his full height, reaching out to tug at Danta’s billowy sleeve. “You could stay. If you want to.” His tone takes on a softer sound, something he’s never quite done before. Even the regality of his face takes on a softer edge, a dark brow rising. “There’s no need to run.” An air of that playful goading, as if it might make him stay as opposed to the very not him softness.
“I was basically done anyway.” He says in response, shifting to roll to his feet in turn, drawing himself up to his full height, reaching out to tug at Danta’s billowy sleeve. “You could stay. If you want to.” His tone takes on a softer sound, something he’s never quite done before. Even the regality of his face takes on a softer edge, a dark brow rising. “There’s no need to run.” An air of that playful goading, as if it might make him stay as opposed to the very not him softness.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
