Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
He’s sure that she was pissed at everyone else all the same, and he hopes that rather than being a statue in the Climb somewhere, she suffered some horrible death instead. It’s what draws him into his nostalgia, one that’s suddenly upset at the idea of the Maverick leaving the room all of a sudden. It’s been… Nice, to say the least.
“Not to fold my clothes.” He rolls his eyes, depositing the cup on a ledge of a shelf for a moment as he steps a bit closer, shoulder shrugging. “The company is nice. Unlike what you’ve been trying to send to my door.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer, arms folding across his scarred chest as he shifts his weight a little, as close to awkward as Astaroth can get right now.
“Stay, Danta, darling.” Dark eyes focus on the blonde’s face, cocking slightly as he fights against his past notions to say “Please?”
“Not to fold my clothes.” He rolls his eyes, depositing the cup on a ledge of a shelf for a moment as he steps a bit closer, shoulder shrugging. “The company is nice. Unlike what you’ve been trying to send to my door.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer, arms folding across his scarred chest as he shifts his weight a little, as close to awkward as Astaroth can get right now.
“Stay, Danta, darling.” Dark eyes focus on the blonde’s face, cocking slightly as he fights against his past notions to say “Please?”
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
