// with our one foot in the grave //
Silence overtakes Danta, but there’s that flicker of tension between the blonde’s shoulder blades that Astaroth’s fingers draw meaningless designs into, quiet and soaking, relaxing all while simultaneously waiting for the words to leave his lips. When it happens, his head tilts too, peering out the window to see more dark clouds approach, hiding the sun, bringing a crash of rain in with heavy plunks against the glass.
“Mm, as delightful as that sounds, I doubt we will get anywhere with how wet the ground is.” Wildfires were easy in the Climb, where everything was practically just as dry as a bone. “It would likely spark and immediately go out, and I do not think my ego could survive that.” He’s surprised when the deep rumble of a laugh escapes his throat with it, arms tightening around the other man.
Sighing out his humor, his head tilts back against the back of the tub once more. “Perhaps we can write every awful thing we wish to do but cannot, then burn it to hide the evidence?” Less fun, but, maybe it would help to get it out?
“Mm, as delightful as that sounds, I doubt we will get anywhere with how wet the ground is.” Wildfires were easy in the Climb, where everything was practically just as dry as a bone. “It would likely spark and immediately go out, and I do not think my ego could survive that.” He’s surprised when the deep rumble of a laugh escapes his throat with it, arms tightening around the other man.
Sighing out his humor, his head tilts back against the back of the tub once more. “Perhaps we can write every awful thing we wish to do but cannot, then burn it to hide the evidence?” Less fun, but, maybe it would help to get it out?
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
