// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
Apparently Danta has put in a lot more thought than he has about where he could potentially live, more so than the Butcher has an idea to. Listing out all of the potential options distracts him, keeping him from bristling further and distracted enough to admit a quiet “I like it here.” As if that made all the difference that he couldn’t leave.
He was comfortable here. He made a place for himself here. He couldn’t just leave.
The Maverick succeeds in drawing him down into the chair, Asta’s shoulders slumping a little as he looks up to watch Danta settle between his knees, drawing him up into his chest, and his confusion flares enough for his arms to be belated as they wind around Danta’s lower back, exhaling a sigh into his chest. “I’m sorry too.” He murmurs softly, arms tightening slightly in a gentle squeeze.
He was comfortable here. He made a place for himself here. He couldn’t just leave.
The Maverick succeeds in drawing him down into the chair, Asta’s shoulders slumping a little as he looks up to watch Danta settle between his knees, drawing him up into his chest, and his confusion flares enough for his arms to be belated as they wind around Danta’s lower back, exhaling a sigh into his chest. “I’m sorry too.” He murmurs softly, arms tightening slightly in a gentle squeeze.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
