// you've got a passion in those eyes //
"You're allowed not to tell people things," Danta points out dryly, even if the sullen set of his shoulders gives away that he's absolutely saying the words for the sake of it. (And people, in this case, of course means him). Either way, it's still new territory for the Maverick to walk, and Asta is right in being able to see the throwback parts of Danta that he can spot from the Climb; the restless energy, the tight agitation in his jaw and shoulders with nowhere to go until it's given a direction.
One that the butcher is rightly wary of giving, and it's only as the other man presses in closer that the Maverick releases the breath he's been holding, forcing his arms to slip around Asta more naturally, though he's still overly careful of the marks that paint his skin in hues of blue and purple. "Okay," he mumbles, barely able to think of the implications of such a phrase - just you - before the butcher does start to explain.
And gods, as soon as Maea's name hits the air the Maverick's suspicions are already raised, his brow furrowed and his fingers automatically clasping Asta closer, despite the care he's been trying to take. As the story tumbles out he does wince on the butcher's behalf, too, fingers slipping through the back of his damp hair, eyes dark. "Fuck," he whispers. "I mean, it's fine. I'm glad you got out of there - you did what you had to do." The gods know Danta has run plenty of times in his life.
Only that does not at all appear to be the whole story, and to say that there's a dangerous slant to the way Danta's fingers caress the back of Asta's neck is an understatement. "That still doesn't explain why you are covered in bruises," he whispers, his tone almost sweet, as if begging for the context.
One that the butcher is rightly wary of giving, and it's only as the other man presses in closer that the Maverick releases the breath he's been holding, forcing his arms to slip around Asta more naturally, though he's still overly careful of the marks that paint his skin in hues of blue and purple. "Okay," he mumbles, barely able to think of the implications of such a phrase - just you - before the butcher does start to explain.
And gods, as soon as Maea's name hits the air the Maverick's suspicions are already raised, his brow furrowed and his fingers automatically clasping Asta closer, despite the care he's been trying to take. As the story tumbles out he does wince on the butcher's behalf, too, fingers slipping through the back of his damp hair, eyes dark. "Fuck," he whispers. "I mean, it's fine. I'm glad you got out of there - you did what you had to do." The gods know Danta has run plenty of times in his life.
Only that does not at all appear to be the whole story, and to say that there's a dangerous slant to the way Danta's fingers caress the back of Asta's neck is an understatement. "That still doesn't explain why you are covered in bruises," he whispers, his tone almost sweet, as if begging for the context.
Dantalion
// so aim it straight and true //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
