reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
“Mm, I appreciate that.” He hums, even if Danta didn’t. He can feel the vibrating tension lingering from the blonde above him, especially as the glass is refilled. Asta watches casually, hand lifting to rest atop Danta’s on his shoulder, the edge of a smirk tilting the corners up. “I doubt she’ll stick around.” He muses, and if she does… well, once he’s fully healed, he isn’t sure exactly what he would do.
It wouldn’t be good, though. He can guarantee that.
His hand lifts from Danta’s to snag at the glass, twisting toward him a little bit more, offering a leg if the Maverick wishes to sit, the top couple of buttons undone to reveal the edge of scars and the fading out yellow bruise. “Sentimentality doesn’t typically suit you, darling, but of course. If you want it.” He drawls, smirking up at him as he hides the amusement with the rim of the glass.
It wouldn’t be good, though. He can guarantee that.
His hand lifts from Danta’s to snag at the glass, twisting toward him a little bit more, offering a leg if the Maverick wishes to sit, the top couple of buttons undone to reveal the edge of scars and the fading out yellow bruise. “Sentimentality doesn’t typically suit you, darling, but of course. If you want it.” He drawls, smirking up at him as he hides the amusement with the rim of the glass.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
