honey, ask me, I should know
"Mmhm," Danta confirms with a smug raise of his eyebrows. "I chose that title specifically because of the connotations it had to Dygra. I don't feel as though any Ancient wants to be a king or a queen. Nothing so lowly would suit us. A representative of our goddess, though, and everything she stands for?" He grins. "Jealous?"
He doubts it, honestly, given the way Asta twists and manages to tug him around and into his lap, the Maverick's expression flooded momentarily with surprise. "Someone has gotten stronger," he remarks, shifting to adjust against the other man, an arm winding carelessly around his shoulders as he fusses for the gift Danta had so casually discarded earlier.
Rolling his eyes as it's placed into his lap, the Maverick eyes the deep purple paper before he smirks back at Asta. "Isn't purple the Family's colour?" he remarks, but nonetheless settles enough so he can tear the paper away. Some might have carefully unwrapped it, being minfdul of each crisp fold, but the Maverick is not that way.
just to sit outside your door
