// with our one foot in the grave //
“Mm, I do.” He says on an edge of a sigh, nose wrinkling despite it at the memory. “Barely, admittedly.” He remembers the comfort of curling up on the windowsill, the quiet admission earlier of the bare basics. The rest? He doesn’t remember the details he’s let slip, and perhaps that’s for the better.
Silence overcomes them and Astaroth settles slumped against Danta’s shoulder, draining the dregs of the coffee from the mug slowly until he feels like he’s more awake and human, noticing the look Danta gives to his scarred and bruised chest. Luckily, they haven’t darkened any and the edges have turned into a deep blue green as opposed to the stark blue of before.
“Do you have nothing to do?” He asks, letting his dark gaze lift to scan the other Ancient’s face. He doesn’t want to keep the Maverick from whatever regional running duties he may have.
Silence overcomes them and Astaroth settles slumped against Danta’s shoulder, draining the dregs of the coffee from the mug slowly until he feels like he’s more awake and human, noticing the look Danta gives to his scarred and bruised chest. Luckily, they haven’t darkened any and the edges have turned into a deep blue green as opposed to the stark blue of before.
“Do you have nothing to do?” He asks, letting his dark gaze lift to scan the other Ancient’s face. He doesn’t want to keep the Maverick from whatever regional running duties he may have.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
