i've always liked to play with fire

Dantalion

innocence died screaming
honey, ask me, I should know

Too engrossed in pretending to read to notice the way the Dusklight seems to sigh out a breath, Danta runs his tongue across his teeth and continues to slowly tear out the ledger page. The soft crrrrrkk of the paper is just chaotic enough to soothe nerves he refuses to believe are frayed, and he sets it gently to one side before starting on the next. And long fingers have just found a nice edge to start ripping when a shadow falls across the words, one so familiar that it has him instinctively glancing up, expecting to see the butcher sitting across from him in his usual spot.

And there's a flash of disappointment on his face to see that no one is there, until a rich and accented voice rumbles out over his shoulder. Whipping around to see the other man, surprise and anger fight for dominance in the Maverick's expression, before finally settling on neither. Huffing out a laugh, he reaches out to shove at the other man's (good) shoulder, free hand clenching over the ledger to stop himself from beating Astaroth with the book.

"And what time do you call this?" he demands, as if the other man is just late for a drink. The truth, of course, is something only shared between the two of them, and certainly not out here at the bar.

I slithered here from Eden
just to sit outside your door

Table base by Skylark