a romantic, candelit dinner would be incomplete
He’s distracted and it’s what keeps himself from focusing on just what the prehensile tail is up to, and still so distracted by the burn and the squinting and the slight wincing as breathing in feels like fire that he looks over at Danta with the question, brows pinching slightly. “What?” He asks a bit dumbly, realizing it immediately after. He rolls his eyes and can’t hide the flush that darkens his ears, tail retreating to wrap around his own barstool (which, fun fact, is where Danta’s tail is still settled.)
“You were in my space first, darling.” He drawls with a sigh as his tail starts a little battle with Danta’s own around his own barstool, gesturing for the bartender for another round of whatever that shot was for himself and the Maverick, even if he was going to be a little shit about their proximity and touch.
“You were in my space first, darling.” He drawls with a sigh as his tail starts a little battle with Danta’s own around his own barstool, gesturing for the bartender for another round of whatever that shot was for himself and the Maverick, even if he was going to be a little shit about their proximity and touch.
Astaroth
without all this blood /////
