// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
“Hush.” Asta drawls to the booo, before he’s collecting everything he needs to return to the bed, settling beside the Maverick and offering the glass. “It is not a terrible deal, darling. I’d like for you to have some semblance of recovery tomorrow.” He says idly, drinking from his glass as the tension in his shoulders starts to bleed out. It dissipates even more as the blonde lolls against his shoulder.
A deep chuckle leaves him at the comment, though, his head tilting as he swirls the wine in his goblet with a curious dark glance shot the Theocrat’s way. “That can still be on the table.” He drawls idly, before shrugging lightly and taking a sip. “Perhaps I want to make sure you won’t be sick if we do.” It’s as casual as he can manage at this point, but his gaze does slink back toward him.
A deep chuckle leaves him at the comment, though, his head tilting as he swirls the wine in his goblet with a curious dark glance shot the Theocrat’s way. “That can still be on the table.” He drawls idly, before shrugging lightly and taking a sip. “Perhaps I want to make sure you won’t be sick if we do.” It’s as casual as he can manage at this point, but his gaze does slink back toward him.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
