Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
“I would be honored to.” He offers, a genuine sound in his tone despite the distance – like little sleepover confessions while he remains soaking up heat from the fireplace like a lizard and she soaks up her own in his bed. As she says that she will start over too, Astaroth nestles in more comfortably, letting a soft twist of a smile linger on his face at the idea.
One that has him opening an eye curiously at her quiet confession, and without a heartbeat of a second of pause – namely for her anxieties, he gives his answer. “I would love nothing more than to be your friend, Maea.” He drawls, pausing to stifle a yawn as he nestles in and closes his eyes again, imagining with how quiet she’s becoming that if he drifts into sleep she might not be far behind him.
One that has him opening an eye curiously at her quiet confession, and without a heartbeat of a second of pause – namely for her anxieties, he gives his answer. “I would love nothing more than to be your friend, Maea.” He drawls, pausing to stifle a yawn as he nestles in and closes his eyes again, imagining with how quiet she’s becoming that if he drifts into sleep she might not be far behind him.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
