you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
It's traitorous, the way Danta feels himself relax in the other man's grip, even as the words he'd thrown - have you become my version of Morax? - continue to bounce around in his mind like loose change. He wants this and hates this, craves it and resents it, and it only has his arms tightening further around Astaroth as if he might squeeze the past hour out of him and let them start again. But of course that's not how things work, and only as he lets a hand stroke down the length of the butcher's spine - hearing his words if not responding to them - does he speak again.
"You're shaking," he whispers, nosing against his cheek and reaching up with his free hand to run warm fingers against the strong line of his jaw, as if to look at him properly now that the decision - until tomorrow - has been spoken aloud. "What happened?" And only now that the haze of bloodlust has evaporated does he properly see the butcher's state of undress, the bare feet, the residual oil shining against his olive skin.
"You're shaking," he whispers, nosing against his cheek and reaching up with his free hand to run warm fingers against the strong line of his jaw, as if to look at him properly now that the decision - until tomorrow - has been spoken aloud. "What happened?" And only now that the haze of bloodlust has evaporated does he properly see the butcher's state of undress, the bare feet, the residual oil shining against his olive skin.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
