Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
She reminds him of a cat starting to smooth out from being puffed up in anger, the way she concedes and mutters unhappily and stares at the floor. He shrugs a shoulder that she can’t see, content with the result as is evident by the sharp smile remaining on his face. “Alas, you are making the correct choice.” He offers, right when she decides to give in, and he stands beside her ever a pillar in case her swaying became too much.
He helps her wander back down the walkway, around the tables, toward the rooms in the back with surprising ease and grace for how flushed his skin is from the liquor – it’s clear he can hold it mostly well enough – and when they arrive at his door, he unlocks it with the key in his pocket, taking a moment to admire the decorations they’d added earlier, before he opens it and gestures for her to step inside. “Now, if you’d prefer to be left alone, I’ll simply just grab a couple of things and let you be.” But the offer remains – he could stay or go, whichever made it easier for her.
He helps her wander back down the walkway, around the tables, toward the rooms in the back with surprising ease and grace for how flushed his skin is from the liquor – it’s clear he can hold it mostly well enough – and when they arrive at his door, he unlocks it with the key in his pocket, taking a moment to admire the decorations they’d added earlier, before he opens it and gestures for her to step inside. “Now, if you’d prefer to be left alone, I’ll simply just grab a couple of things and let you be.” But the offer remains – he could stay or go, whichever made it easier for her.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
