// i am the righteous hand of god //
“I do owe her now, don’t I?” He says with a soft huff of a laugh, still under the impression of it being nothing more than a friendly get together (which he will learn was simply misreading the entirety of it because it was an actual date. Remaining blissfully unaware, though, was better for the butcher, especially when his focus was entirely on the shorter Ancient in his arms, tucked in against him to keep him as close as can be, while trying to ensure that he keeps his teeth to himself.
As Danta gets more comfortable, Asta still feels the thrumming of starlight fading in his veins, and it keeps him up long enough to hear and feel the snoring of the Maverick in his arms and against his neck. "Goodnight, Danta, darling." His hand continues to stroke gentle patterns into his shoulders, a silent little lullaby until he manages to set aside the vibrating starlight to nod off himself.
It isn’t so much of a physically exhausted sleep that the butcher finds himself in, as it is an emotionally exhausted one. Hours pass without the butcher doing so much as moving, aside from breathing. Until in the early hours of the morning when the light starts to filter through does Astaroth start to twitch and try to toss and turn – made more difficult with how his arms have wrapped around Danta, as if to drag him with as he grows suddenly restless in his sleep, his jaw clacking suddenly with a sharp snap of sound that thankfully is no where near the blonde Ancient's face or extremities.
As Danta gets more comfortable, Asta still feels the thrumming of starlight fading in his veins, and it keeps him up long enough to hear and feel the snoring of the Maverick in his arms and against his neck. "Goodnight, Danta, darling." His hand continues to stroke gentle patterns into his shoulders, a silent little lullaby until he manages to set aside the vibrating starlight to nod off himself.
It isn’t so much of a physically exhausted sleep that the butcher finds himself in, as it is an emotionally exhausted one. Hours pass without the butcher doing so much as moving, aside from breathing. Until in the early hours of the morning when the light starts to filter through does Astaroth start to twitch and try to toss and turn – made more difficult with how his arms have wrapped around Danta, as if to drag him with as he grows suddenly restless in his sleep, his jaw clacking suddenly with a sharp snap of sound that thankfully is no where near the blonde Ancient's face or extremities.
Astaroth
// i am the devil that you forgot //
