a romantic, candelit dinner would be incomplete
Oh, his eyes are peeled for danger at any moment. He takes his job quite seriously, after all. He watches still, even as his drink is received and a toothy, saccharine smile is offered to the bartender at the moment as Danta clinks his glass to Astaroth’s own.
“Most of them are, indeed.” He murmurs his agreement, taking his sip and focuses his attention onto the Maverick, eyes lingering on the darkened bruises that he’s absolutely the cause of. Though he says nothing of it, just simply takes it all in. “It’s been quiet here so far, though the corner booth has been growing a little rowdy.” He tilts his head in that direction, though he’s not overtly watching.
“Most of them are, indeed.” He murmurs his agreement, taking his sip and focuses his attention onto the Maverick, eyes lingering on the darkened bruises that he’s absolutely the cause of. Though he says nothing of it, just simply takes it all in. “It’s been quiet here so far, though the corner booth has been growing a little rowdy.” He tilts his head in that direction, though he’s not overtly watching.
Astaroth
without all this blood /////
