// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
Nodding once Danta withdraws from him, Asta offers a weak smile. “Thank you.” Is the first thing he says, reiterated when the blonde returns with a glass and the bottle of Halovian liquor, something that’s actually surprisingly nostalgic for the butcher as he definitely pours plenty to let the burn of to distract away from the internal stressors he feels as he waits for Danta to return. The liquor hits with a certain zing that’s reminiscent of before he was Ancient, and it’s a sensation that calms him surprisingly well – like this can be a new beginning.
He hears Danta’s announcement from the other side of the door and he steels himself, shifting to face the desk with his arms braced and the empty glass. “Come in.” He calls out loud enough for the Maverick to enter, his voice surprisingly steady for the moment until the blonde enters, dark eyes immediately dropping to the dark bundle in Danta’s arms like it’s the largest threat in the room. He can see how she’s quite obviously upset between the Maverick’s hands, and that understanding and the connection to the Maverick has him trying not to immediately push it away.
So, it’s with a shaky breath and a tight jaw, a hand beckoning him closer, that he tries to get a better look. His heart suddenly resides in his throat and he desperately tries to swallow it down enough to offer a shaky “hello Moira,” before his jaw shuts tight again with a snap. Exhaling through his nose, he keeps his hands in front of him, watching to see how she reacts and trying to desperately believe that her first initial movement wouldn’t be descending on to tear away his flesh.
He hears Danta’s announcement from the other side of the door and he steels himself, shifting to face the desk with his arms braced and the empty glass. “Come in.” He calls out loud enough for the Maverick to enter, his voice surprisingly steady for the moment until the blonde enters, dark eyes immediately dropping to the dark bundle in Danta’s arms like it’s the largest threat in the room. He can see how she’s quite obviously upset between the Maverick’s hands, and that understanding and the connection to the Maverick has him trying not to immediately push it away.
So, it’s with a shaky breath and a tight jaw, a hand beckoning him closer, that he tries to get a better look. His heart suddenly resides in his throat and he desperately tries to swallow it down enough to offer a shaky “hello Moira,” before his jaw shuts tight again with a snap. Exhaling through his nose, he keeps his hands in front of him, watching to see how she reacts and trying to desperately believe that her first initial movement wouldn’t be descending on to tear away his flesh.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
