// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
The firmness of his voice draws Astaroth’s attention raptly, dark eyes focusing on the blonde before him, the hands at his shoulders, steadying him enough that he can cradle the now empty glass in his hands. And despite the attempts to make it sound like it isn’t his fault, it really doubles down on it in his mind. If he had waited a few hours, perhaps the crow wouldn’t have been there, perhaps Danta would have prepared, but it all starts to feel like this big secret that the Maverick must keep hidden from him and he wonders when he would have told him if he hadn’t witnessed the crow.
His nose wrinkles, but he’s malleable enough to be guided to sit near the fireplace, trying to let the warmth of it breathe life into his clammy hands. “How long have you had her?” He asks instead of any confirmation to hearing what he said, dark eyes focusing a bit more raptly as his nose remains wrinkled and there’s a slight curve of his lip, the numbness slipping away into an irrational anger that he knows deep down is exactly that, but with the whiplash of emotions he doesn’t know what to do with, he instead begins to lash out.
His nose wrinkles, but he’s malleable enough to be guided to sit near the fireplace, trying to let the warmth of it breathe life into his clammy hands. “How long have you had her?” He asks instead of any confirmation to hearing what he said, dark eyes focusing a bit more raptly as his nose remains wrinkled and there’s a slight curve of his lip, the numbness slipping away into an irrational anger that he knows deep down is exactly that, but with the whiplash of emotions he doesn’t know what to do with, he instead begins to lash out.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
