// with our one foot in the grave //
“Quite so.” Comes the soft huff of a laugh, a short one based off how much pain his ribs are causing. Releasing his own hold on the magic, he settles with fiddling with the knobs to get the hot water pouring in and shedding his shirt, blissfully unaware for the moment as he feels the steam and the heat of the fireplace encapsulate him like a cocoon of nothing but comfort.
And that’s when he hears Danta’s curse, too content with the warmth that’s already greeting his tired body that he looks over as the blonde rushes over to him, swatting away his hands. “Wha-?” cut off by scolding, too, hands away from the rest of his lingering clothes to let Danta do all the work, feeling the warmth of the Maverick’s hand as he lifts his chin to meet his gaze. The butcher’s drain from their warmth and he works his jaw, completely wanting to avoid the subject in this moment, because there’s a large part of him that still feels awkward about the entire ordeal.
“I—I don’t want to talk about it just yet.” Comes the gentle request, frozen hands lifting to cup the sides of the shorter Ancient’s cheeks. “A lot happened. I am still trying to figure out where it all went wrong.” A large part of him thinks its his fault, now that he’s a bit more rational and could realize that he shouldn’t have ran into the brick wall that was Maea, over and over and over again. But the panicked, irrational part of his mind had hoped that it would have some success.
“I want to clean up and soak and eat something and feel like myself again.” He offers a small smile to the Maverick, trying to alleviate the shock and tension despite knowing deep down that he would remain just as taught until the words spilled from his lips.
And that’s when he hears Danta’s curse, too content with the warmth that’s already greeting his tired body that he looks over as the blonde rushes over to him, swatting away his hands. “Wha-?” cut off by scolding, too, hands away from the rest of his lingering clothes to let Danta do all the work, feeling the warmth of the Maverick’s hand as he lifts his chin to meet his gaze. The butcher’s drain from their warmth and he works his jaw, completely wanting to avoid the subject in this moment, because there’s a large part of him that still feels awkward about the entire ordeal.
“I—I don’t want to talk about it just yet.” Comes the gentle request, frozen hands lifting to cup the sides of the shorter Ancient’s cheeks. “A lot happened. I am still trying to figure out where it all went wrong.” A large part of him thinks its his fault, now that he’s a bit more rational and could realize that he shouldn’t have ran into the brick wall that was Maea, over and over and over again. But the panicked, irrational part of his mind had hoped that it would have some success.
“I want to clean up and soak and eat something and feel like myself again.” He offers a small smile to the Maverick, trying to alleviate the shock and tension despite knowing deep down that he would remain just as taught until the words spilled from his lips.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
