a romantic, candelit dinner would be incomplete
It’s almost palpable, to feel the wind in the Maverick’s sails flush out so quickly. So fast that the room feels cold and he turns a little, pressing his cheek into the pillow as he closes his eyes and winces against the way it spins. So he draws the blanket up tightly. “Dantalion, I am not built for a real relationship.” He says bluntly, keeping his eyes closed.
But they squeeze a bit tighter closed as he sighs. “Nor do I even want one. But I have lived my life solitary, too, you know. And you made it nice since I’ve been back.” He drawls, eyes popping open to peer in the direction of the Maverick. “I am not asking for anything but to possibly share your warmth on occasion.”
Certainly no strings attached. Obviously. He was a cannibal with no relationship experience in the slightest nor one he’d even witnessed growing up. His mother had birthed him and they had been on their own in their tribe. He didn’t know who his father was. And up until he’d left, it was more of a general understanding of sticking together, until they started snacking on each other.
But they squeeze a bit tighter closed as he sighs. “Nor do I even want one. But I have lived my life solitary, too, you know. And you made it nice since I’ve been back.” He drawls, eyes popping open to peer in the direction of the Maverick. “I am not asking for anything but to possibly share your warmth on occasion.”
Certainly no strings attached. Obviously. He was a cannibal with no relationship experience in the slightest nor one he’d even witnessed growing up. His mother had birthed him and they had been on their own in their tribe. He didn’t know who his father was. And up until he’d left, it was more of a general understanding of sticking together, until they started snacking on each other.
Astaroth
without all this blood /////
