i've always liked to play with fire

Astaroth

// i ride the edge, my speed goes in the red //

To say that it seemed like Danta perks up like a canine with the shadow that Astaroth casts, well, it wouldn’t be entirely wrong. But none of those teasing words leave him when the Maverick whips around and the Butcher isn’t sure if he’s even fucking slept, adding to the stress that pools in his stomach. The shove is warranted and Astaroth hums a laugh, letting his sharp toothed smile flash toward the blonde, even if the words cut a bit deeper than he expects them to.

But they’re in public, and he knows how to play the game they’re dancing around, and he steps forward to close a good amount of the distance between them. “I required a new shirt.” He says as if it were obvious. “It took longer than anticipated. I am sorry.” He says on an air of an apology, as if it were nothing more than being late for a drink. But they both know better – and so with the words on the tip of his tongue, he swallows them down and an easier smile graces his face as he reaches out with his stitched up arm toward Danta, unsure if he’s going to simply get smacked away like a cat might that doesn’t wish to be touched.

“My cane is in my room and I have a few things to unpack. Would you like to join me?” Can we talk privately?

// hot blood, these veins, my pleasure is their pain //