laps up the vice like a wolf in the night

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

Shut up, Danta automatically wants to bite out as Asta replies, but instead he shuts his eyes against the world and the words being spoken between them, fingertips stroking across the nape of Asta's neck, nose brushing against the other man's. The Maverick might have said more were it not for the sudden kiss pressed to his lips; chaste it might be, but Danta nonetheless melts into it, his free hand stroking down the length of the butcher's spine as if worried he might get up and walk out without an anchoring touch to keep him there.

Something twists in his gut, though not entirely unpleasantly, at those words - I needed you - and blue eyes blink open, of course, to see Asta looking anywhere but directly at him. "I'm here now," he mumbles. It's true that he'd been here yesterday as well, but likely not in the way the butcher needed, which, if Danta thinks about it enough, probably explains his pre-dawn escape from the Maverick's rooms.

Now, though? He might not be able to guarantee he'll stay awake, but he does try to tug the butcher down enough to wind his arms around him properly at last, nosing into his dark hair. "I'm sorry things were difficult for you, with Flora," he mumbles. "I hadn't considered how it might affect you in that way."

Dantalion