you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god
Danta, despite all that he's said and the ways he's acted and his craving for solitude since his clash with Astaroth the night before, does not expect to wake up alone. His fingers close around nothing as he blinks his eyes open, and for a moment before he remembers all that occurred, he merely feels the yawning unknown of another day waiting for the butcher and pretending like he isn't doing just that.
Only as he sits up, his blonde hair the dictionary definition of bed head, he spots the scorch marks on his floor in the dim light, squinting at them in the seconds before memory floods back with a vengeance. And it still hurts - the look on Asta's face, the lashing of his tongue armed with barbs aimed to hurt Danta in all the worst ways, the blood and the fight - only the red mist of bloodlust is well and truly quelled by now.
It gives him space enough to understand his own craving for distance - and then to immediately resent it. With food and rest, the shock that's seized him has begun to melt away, and the Maverick is out of bed before he can stop himself. Hopping into a pair of dark sweatpants on the way to the door - barely remembering to dress at all, in fact - he shuffles downstairs looking bewildered and half asleep.
One of the helpful bartenders who had started the opening shift is kind enough to gesture vaguely towards Asta's room, and the butcher will very suddenly find his morning interrupted as a hand tries his door, and then the Maverick promptly stumbles right in, not having expected it to be open. "Hey--" he's beginning, only for the momentum to be snuffed right out at the sight of the other man. "Hey," he announces again, thowing his hands up like that will mean anything.
Only as he sits up, his blonde hair the dictionary definition of bed head, he spots the scorch marks on his floor in the dim light, squinting at them in the seconds before memory floods back with a vengeance. And it still hurts - the look on Asta's face, the lashing of his tongue armed with barbs aimed to hurt Danta in all the worst ways, the blood and the fight - only the red mist of bloodlust is well and truly quelled by now.
It gives him space enough to understand his own craving for distance - and then to immediately resent it. With food and rest, the shock that's seized him has begun to melt away, and the Maverick is out of bed before he can stop himself. Hopping into a pair of dark sweatpants on the way to the door - barely remembering to dress at all, in fact - he shuffles downstairs looking bewildered and half asleep.
One of the helpful bartenders who had started the opening shift is kind enough to gesture vaguely towards Asta's room, and the butcher will very suddenly find his morning interrupted as a hand tries his door, and then the Maverick promptly stumbles right in, not having expected it to be open. "Hey--" he's beginning, only for the momentum to be snuffed right out at the sight of the other man. "Hey," he announces again, thowing his hands up like that will mean anything.
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
