Astaroth
// but if you think I'm misery,
Simply a spell for trouble, Flora was, walking that thin line of danger and not, to which when the curtain parts and her lips are painted with the thin sheen of red from the speck of blood that’s invaded his scent, Astaroth is more than content to flash her a too sharp grin that seems to say we’ll see.
Nodding to the shop keep and glancing between him and Flora, Astaroth seems quite pleased with the results of everything thus far. And as Flora tucks a rogue piece of dark hair back behind a pronged horn, Astaroth’s smile widens a fraction toward the queen as he inclines his head. “Flowy, if you wish to move easier. Fitted if for a night out.” He suggests, leaving it up to her to think of what other context within his words she might find.
Leaving Flora to admire the dress and so that he might be able to pluck out his own materials, he answers swiftly. “Where would you like the dress to go, Flora, darling? Your home?” He asks over his shoulder, before nodding to the molten fabric he’d picked out. “The other one can be sent to the Dusklight in the Hollowed Grounds.” And what a surprise he intends it to be, when he turns back to Flora to feel her arm snake around his waist, as she tucks herself against his side and his arm loops around her shoulders gently, peering at the two of them in the mirror.
His thoughts are nowhere near where Flora’s go, but he does admire how strong the two of them look standing there, and already the butcher is plucking pieces he already owns that may match Flora’s dress all the better for it. Turning slightly toward her to brush back her blonde curls behind her ear, he fusses over her a small amount before he settles and returns his attention into the mirror, catching her aqua gaze with an easy smile. “When you have found the one, you don’t need to waste time trying the rest, mm?” He comments, thinking of nothing else but the clothing she’s wearing, even if his words could be misconstrued for something else.
Nodding and turning toward her, he takes in one more full look of her in the dress, his hands shifting to smooth over the fabric again before taking her hand to bring her back behind the curtain. By now, he’s sure the shop keep has left them on their own for the moment, which gives the butcher enough time to settle himself back at Flora’s back, his hands smoothing along the fabric of her sides and stomach, tracing the lines and boning of the corset before wandering back toward her back, fingers making even quicker work of shedding her from it. “You are beautiful, Flora, with or without wearing my favorite colors.” His tone has a hint of teasing to it that he hides behind the smile on his face, and as one hand pulls the last of the laces through, his other glides up along her front, over her chest in a slow pass to her neck, fingertips pressing surprisingly tender to the underside of her jaw as she guides her head toward his, his touch harboring much more possessiveness than they had earlier, likely due to the faint lipgloss of blood she’d put on her lips. “I almost wonder if you are testing me.” Raising a brow playfully, the butcher flashes her a too sharp smile in turn.
Nodding to the shop keep and glancing between him and Flora, Astaroth seems quite pleased with the results of everything thus far. And as Flora tucks a rogue piece of dark hair back behind a pronged horn, Astaroth’s smile widens a fraction toward the queen as he inclines his head. “Flowy, if you wish to move easier. Fitted if for a night out.” He suggests, leaving it up to her to think of what other context within his words she might find.
Leaving Flora to admire the dress and so that he might be able to pluck out his own materials, he answers swiftly. “Where would you like the dress to go, Flora, darling? Your home?” He asks over his shoulder, before nodding to the molten fabric he’d picked out. “The other one can be sent to the Dusklight in the Hollowed Grounds.” And what a surprise he intends it to be, when he turns back to Flora to feel her arm snake around his waist, as she tucks herself against his side and his arm loops around her shoulders gently, peering at the two of them in the mirror.
His thoughts are nowhere near where Flora’s go, but he does admire how strong the two of them look standing there, and already the butcher is plucking pieces he already owns that may match Flora’s dress all the better for it. Turning slightly toward her to brush back her blonde curls behind her ear, he fusses over her a small amount before he settles and returns his attention into the mirror, catching her aqua gaze with an easy smile. “When you have found the one, you don’t need to waste time trying the rest, mm?” He comments, thinking of nothing else but the clothing she’s wearing, even if his words could be misconstrued for something else.
Nodding and turning toward her, he takes in one more full look of her in the dress, his hands shifting to smooth over the fabric again before taking her hand to bring her back behind the curtain. By now, he’s sure the shop keep has left them on their own for the moment, which gives the butcher enough time to settle himself back at Flora’s back, his hands smoothing along the fabric of her sides and stomach, tracing the lines and boning of the corset before wandering back toward her back, fingers making even quicker work of shedding her from it. “You are beautiful, Flora, with or without wearing my favorite colors.” His tone has a hint of teasing to it that he hides behind the smile on his face, and as one hand pulls the last of the laces through, his other glides up along her front, over her chest in a slow pass to her neck, fingertips pressing surprisingly tender to the underside of her jaw as she guides her head toward his, his touch harboring much more possessiveness than they had earlier, likely due to the faint lipgloss of blood she’d put on her lips. “I almost wonder if you are testing me.” Raising a brow playfully, the butcher flashes her a too sharp smile in turn.
then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //
it never leaves me alone, no //
