Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
Snorting at her mischief, Asta doesn’t correct anything. It was a unique relationship between the two of them and he wasn’t going to try and explain it all. There was no need, anyway. So instead, the bartender collects the plate and glasses and cleans up what he can while he makes his offer, focusing on her as he lists it out.
Only to be declined.
Which would be fine if she didn’t look like she’d fall over into a snow bluff on the way to her home.
“Maea, darling, it’s snowing outside and you look tired enough that a strong breeze could knock you over into a drift.” He hums, trying to list out a few reasonable reasons why she shouldn’t just leave. “Take the bed. No one will bother you, least of all me.” He makes to slip off the barstool, collecting his cane, and offering an arm for her to take.
Only to be declined.
Which would be fine if she didn’t look like she’d fall over into a snow bluff on the way to her home.
“Maea, darling, it’s snowing outside and you look tired enough that a strong breeze could knock you over into a drift.” He hums, trying to list out a few reasonable reasons why she shouldn’t just leave. “Take the bed. No one will bother you, least of all me.” He makes to slip off the barstool, collecting his cane, and offering an arm for her to take.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
