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
Rolling his eyes a touch affectionately, the butcher’s dark gaze tracks the movement of the bottle as it’s set on his side to keep him from yapping, snorting instead to the response over his favorite cane. It’s a thought that lingers even as he nuzzles in, withdrawing to take another drag from the pipe before it settles in his hand on the table and he cocks his head toward the blonde with a toothy smirk. “If I recall correctly, you cracked my jaw and I thought I had lost a tooth.” A tragedy, he knows, but gods if their fights hadn’t been actually trying to kill each other.
Though it wasn’t like Morax or Zac would allow such a thing to come to them, healed enough to feel the pain but not succumb to them.
Either way. “Would you like to talk about the conversation?” He asks, hand at the other man’s side drawing little designs in the loosened shirt. “You look dashing, by the way.”
Though it wasn’t like Morax or Zac would allow such a thing to come to them, healed enough to feel the pain but not succumb to them.
Either way. “Would you like to talk about the conversation?” He asks, hand at the other man’s side drawing little designs in the loosened shirt. “You look dashing, by the way.”
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
