// smile like you mean it //
There is some levity to the situation when she makes her suggestion, and while it doesn’t help her mood that much, it does soothe some of the ice in his veins. “Perhaps.” He says softly, even if he doesn’t think it would work, knows himself well enough to not care half of the time. When she meets his gaze and offers her point, he concedes with a dip of his bearded chin.
“While true, there’s a fine line between enjoyment and not.” And she hadn’t been enjoying it, as far as he was concerned. She hadn’t enjoyed it so much that she’d spawned a tide jaguar between them. But the agreement is met either way, both apologetic in how it had turned out, and how he wished he could go back with her to Torchline to ensure the healing took place, wondering belatedly if the scars would remain in a juxtaposition of her perfect sculpted skin.
Head cocking slightly at the mention of the date, the sudden realization overcomes him and his cheeks darken a fraction as his eyes drop from hers, drifting over toward the still lit candles, the wine forgotten about, the bottles and ointment his body still shimmers with. Not wanting to seem like he hadn’t known (despite that being the fact entirely,) he snorts. “Not my worst, trust me.” He’d already explained his “worst” ones.
As for the compass, though, and her still wrapped up in his shirt, Astaroth nods and steps forward to her to offer his hand in a fleeting touch. “I can, yes. Please let me know when you are home and healed.” Healed and fine and he doesn’t have to worry about the blood still pouring from her shoulder, blooming rorschach patterns into his floral shirt.
Pulling away from her to allow her to vanish back to Torchline without him, Astaroth takes a moment to try and clean up the best he can, to extinguish the flames, to make his trek back up to catch the skyship that would take him back to the Grounds, feeling adrift the entirety of the time. At least his fyrhund shift made it easier to feel less exposed.
— FIN <3333
“While true, there’s a fine line between enjoyment and not.” And she hadn’t been enjoying it, as far as he was concerned. She hadn’t enjoyed it so much that she’d spawned a tide jaguar between them. But the agreement is met either way, both apologetic in how it had turned out, and how he wished he could go back with her to Torchline to ensure the healing took place, wondering belatedly if the scars would remain in a juxtaposition of her perfect sculpted skin.
Head cocking slightly at the mention of the date, the sudden realization overcomes him and his cheeks darken a fraction as his eyes drop from hers, drifting over toward the still lit candles, the wine forgotten about, the bottles and ointment his body still shimmers with. Not wanting to seem like he hadn’t known (despite that being the fact entirely,) he snorts. “Not my worst, trust me.” He’d already explained his “worst” ones.
As for the compass, though, and her still wrapped up in his shirt, Astaroth nods and steps forward to her to offer his hand in a fleeting touch. “I can, yes. Please let me know when you are home and healed.” Healed and fine and he doesn’t have to worry about the blood still pouring from her shoulder, blooming rorschach patterns into his floral shirt.
Pulling away from her to allow her to vanish back to Torchline without him, Astaroth takes a moment to try and clean up the best he can, to extinguish the flames, to make his trek back up to catch the skyship that would take him back to the Grounds, feeling adrift the entirety of the time. At least his fyrhund shift made it easier to feel less exposed.
— FIN <3333
Astaroth
// take a chance and you could seize it //
