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
“I think I shall make her stew on it.” Astaroth hums with amusement, pausing as Danta lights the tobacco and Astaroth drags a long and slow inhale from it, the bowl of the pipe lighting red and orange as it catches further. He lets it sit in his lungs for a breath moment, before he sees Danta reach for the bottle again and he exhales a light plume in the blonde’s way, watching the smoke curl around his arm. “Leave some for me.” Comes the quiet request or demand, before the subject of canes and the Climb overcome his mind.
His nose wrinkles slightly at the memory, tilting his head a little as he moves the pipe away from his lips. “I did. I was quite upset about it, it was my favorite.” He says with a sigh, his free arm slipping back around Danta’s middle, tugging at the shirt tucked into his pants. “I apologize for the splinters.” He murmurs, recalling how he’d then used the pieces of it to enact the rest of the punishment. It’s enough of a memory that has him nosing his face into Danta’s cheek.
His nose wrinkles slightly at the memory, tilting his head a little as he moves the pipe away from his lips. “I did. I was quite upset about it, it was my favorite.” He says with a sigh, his free arm slipping back around Danta’s middle, tugging at the shirt tucked into his pants. “I apologize for the splinters.” He murmurs, recalling how he’d then used the pieces of it to enact the rest of the punishment. It’s enough of a memory that has him nosing his face into Danta’s cheek.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
