Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
He wants to ask her why she cares so much – but he figures it’ll be along the same lines as her elaboration – that she doesn’t want to be like this, but she is. And so he nods, understanding and letting it linger, letting it fill the space between them as she figures out how to get her tongue to start working. And truthfully – there isn’t any disappointment in the fact that he isn’t frightening – trying to push past that moniker that the Climb had dubbed him with (he was often an enforcer for the Ancients acting up, something he doesn’t wish to continue at this stage, and something Danta had not asked of him).
But she elaborates further, and hides her face and Asta sinks down a little onto the elbow that sparks shooting pain down the bone as he starts to press and massage around the area where it hurts, listening to her say her peace as she fights her own pains. “No, it doesn’t. Because you, darling, are not my keeper.” He murmurs, tilting his head back a little to close his eyes seeing as she’s hiding her face too, and it does work to stretch out the soreness of the wound. “You are not responsible for my actions. You do not even have to tolerate it for us to be friendly toward one another. I understand your point of view. Believe me. It’s what got me eaten by gore crows, after all.” He offers a little bit more truth from himself, now that she’s opening up, even if it had been difficult to get her here.
He pauses to silently hitch his breath a little before resting that massaging hand on the side of his neck, pressing against some of the lingering soreness, keeping his eyes closed and away from her as he continues to formulate his thoughts. “You do not have to become me for me to appreciate you as a person. You are allowed to pick and choose your influences.” Another brief pause, trying to figure out what exactly he’s trying to say. “Does spending time with Danta influence you into wanting to be more like him, sharing anyone’s bed who asks? No. Does spending time with me mean that you’ll get a sudden craving for cannibalism? No.” And here, he chuckles a little, sighing at the end as he blinks his dark eyes open to scan her form. “No, if anything, let Danta influence your carefreeness and let me get you a stunning wardrobe to show off that new confidence you'll gain. You are your own person, my dear.”
Long story short, he’s trying to tell her to pick and choose what parts of those she considers friends she likes and appreciates, and let those be her guiding factors, rather than replicating each individual.
But she elaborates further, and hides her face and Asta sinks down a little onto the elbow that sparks shooting pain down the bone as he starts to press and massage around the area where it hurts, listening to her say her peace as she fights her own pains. “No, it doesn’t. Because you, darling, are not my keeper.” He murmurs, tilting his head back a little to close his eyes seeing as she’s hiding her face too, and it does work to stretch out the soreness of the wound. “You are not responsible for my actions. You do not even have to tolerate it for us to be friendly toward one another. I understand your point of view. Believe me. It’s what got me eaten by gore crows, after all.” He offers a little bit more truth from himself, now that she’s opening up, even if it had been difficult to get her here.
He pauses to silently hitch his breath a little before resting that massaging hand on the side of his neck, pressing against some of the lingering soreness, keeping his eyes closed and away from her as he continues to formulate his thoughts. “You do not have to become me for me to appreciate you as a person. You are allowed to pick and choose your influences.” Another brief pause, trying to figure out what exactly he’s trying to say. “Does spending time with Danta influence you into wanting to be more like him, sharing anyone’s bed who asks? No. Does spending time with me mean that you’ll get a sudden craving for cannibalism? No.” And here, he chuckles a little, sighing at the end as he blinks his dark eyes open to scan her form. “No, if anything, let Danta influence your carefreeness and let me get you a stunning wardrobe to show off that new confidence you'll gain. You are your own person, my dear.”
Long story short, he’s trying to tell her to pick and choose what parts of those she considers friends she likes and appreciates, and let those be her guiding factors, rather than replicating each individual.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
