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
Still stubbornly not looking at the other Ancient even as he hops off the cart and approaches regardless, Astaroth continues the easy inspection of his hand and fingers. Only when Danta’s voice explains further does he deign to lift his gaze over toward the blonde, unable to keep the snort from trying to bloom from his chest. His hand drops from where he’d held it up to inspect it, dropping it onto his other forearm as he turns toward Danta more fully, leaning into his space and over him.
“I suppose I can handle that.” He drawls in full dramatics, rolling his eyes for added emphasis. “You are the only one I will allow it from.” He clarifies after a moment and raises a brow as if daring Danta to challenge that thought, though why he would is anyone’s guess. Danta still gets what he wants, to lord over the Butcher whenever.
“I suppose I can handle that.” He drawls in full dramatics, rolling his eyes for added emphasis. “You are the only one I will allow it from.” He clarifies after a moment and raises a brow as if daring Danta to challenge that thought, though why he would is anyone’s guess. Danta still gets what he wants, to lord over the Butcher whenever.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
