// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
“I know.” Asta’s accented voice airs from behind the blonde, the dull click of the cane against the stone is buffered initially by the snow that drifts along the path before the Last Whisper. “I had my fill, don’t worry, darling.” Comes the follow up drawl. A red coat covers the fine outfit he remains in, following diligently like a hound.
Before he knows it, they’re in the Dusklight and the warmth floods into him immediately, and he steps forward to slip his arm around Danta’s middle to guide him through the crowd, pausing to request water to Danta’s room, before he starts to guide him straight toward his room. “Let me help you get out of your corset.” He hums, keeping Danta in a straight line aimed directly for his door, preventing him from straying. “I did not expect you to drink as much as you did. Did you really hate it as much as you thought you would?” Astaroth isn’t entirely sober, but he isn’t drunk either. A comfortable burn swelling in his gut, keeping his senses clear but warding away the chill.
Before he knows it, they’re in the Dusklight and the warmth floods into him immediately, and he steps forward to slip his arm around Danta’s middle to guide him through the crowd, pausing to request water to Danta’s room, before he starts to guide him straight toward his room. “Let me help you get out of your corset.” He hums, keeping Danta in a straight line aimed directly for his door, preventing him from straying. “I did not expect you to drink as much as you did. Did you really hate it as much as you thought you would?” Astaroth isn’t entirely sober, but he isn’t drunk either. A comfortable burn swelling in his gut, keeping his senses clear but warding away the chill.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
