// with our one foot in the grave //
“Obviously.” Astaroth drawls as if it were common knowledge, his accented tone surprisingly flat for once in the face of it. But as Danta continues, there’s a certain quiet seriousness that Astaroth focuses on, letting the realization sink in that he was worried, and had every right to be. But gods, what a road they’ve walked so far, isn’t it? “I shall.” He makes the quiet little vow, as much of an apology for making him worry that Danta would get.
Like a little cuddle puddle, the tall scarred form of Asta is half hunched and pressed comfortably against the Maverick’s side, dipped half in flame and half in the heat of the blonde that he hums thoughtfully. “I was always envious of that one.” Namely because he wasn’t used to healing or being healed. Isla’s healing water had been a surprise he hadn’t been expecting. “But, bloodbane made it easier to inflict pain, so... It’s why I was always already bloody before anything happened.” Danta would feel his nose wrinkle as its pressed near or into his neck, before he moves.
Withdrawing a little before Danta fully extracts himself, Astaroth easily obliges as he reaches for the box, opening it up and pulling out the pieces they would need, taking a moment to actually inspect the fine colors of scarlet and gold blended into the china. “It’s even better seeing it under this light.” He muses, tilting one of the cups this way and that, watching the flame reflect off the gold details.
Like a little cuddle puddle, the tall scarred form of Asta is half hunched and pressed comfortably against the Maverick’s side, dipped half in flame and half in the heat of the blonde that he hums thoughtfully. “I was always envious of that one.” Namely because he wasn’t used to healing or being healed. Isla’s healing water had been a surprise he hadn’t been expecting. “But, bloodbane made it easier to inflict pain, so... It’s why I was always already bloody before anything happened.” Danta would feel his nose wrinkle as its pressed near or into his neck, before he moves.
Withdrawing a little before Danta fully extracts himself, Astaroth easily obliges as he reaches for the box, opening it up and pulling out the pieces they would need, taking a moment to actually inspect the fine colors of scarlet and gold blended into the china. “It’s even better seeing it under this light.” He muses, tilting one of the cups this way and that, watching the flame reflect off the gold details.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
