laps up the vice like a wolf in the night

you were automatic and as hollow as the 'O' in god

Asta isn't the only one surprised, not only by Danta's sudden change of heart, but by the speed of it as well, but luckily the Maverick hasn't woken up enough just yet to question it. In the end, he thinks, it's that for as much as the butcher's words had felt like a mutiny, as much as the distance might have brought peace and clarity in the long run, it hurts more for Danta not to have what he's found, to be allowed to keep it and covet it whenever he pleases.

"Good," he mumbles, or just about, before Asta is seizing him and drawing him back into his arms. Danta invades every available space to press himself against the taller man, looping an arm around his neck and the other around his waist, head tucked snugly just beneath his jaw. "I would, yes," he rumbles, of sleeping more, and it doesn't matter how crisp or clean the buthcer's new shirt is, he'll have to fight to get it off around the Maverick's touch as he stumbles towards the bed without letting Asta go for even a moment.

Dantalion