// we haven't won, and if we win, //
Running the fire along further until he’s satisfied with the cleanliness of Danta’s skin, Astaroth flashes him an easier smile – not reading between the lines, because he’d told himself he wouldn’t – that he couldn’t - because even if Danta’s touch and embrace had felt the safest, most comfortable place to be, the butcher had pushed too far, had offered up emotions that had caged the Maverick, and he refuses to do that again. Those types of thoughts aren’t allowed to invade, even if they still him and catch his breath in places he otherwise doesn’t know how to deal with. Why delve into it and shift the status quo which has been so easy and comfortable to fit into?
Fire licks at his bearded cheek and his hair, flaking off blood into ash as it releases from his hair, and the butcher leans into the touch as his eyes close comfortably chasing the warmth, before Danta’s words have his eyes opening in a snap and a huff of a laugh leaving him. “Oh, because I have kissed a grand total of three people in the Climb?” He asks, the laughter tensing his shoulders as it leaves him again, scoffing playfully. “What number are you at these days, darling?” He raises a brow as he starts to stand, offering a hand for the Maverick should he wish to take it.
Fire licks at his bearded cheek and his hair, flaking off blood into ash as it releases from his hair, and the butcher leans into the touch as his eyes close comfortably chasing the warmth, before Danta’s words have his eyes opening in a snap and a huff of a laugh leaving him. “Oh, because I have kissed a grand total of three people in the Climb?” He asks, the laughter tensing his shoulders as it leaves him again, scoffing playfully. “What number are you at these days, darling?” He raises a brow as he starts to stand, offering a hand for the Maverick should he wish to take it.
Astaroth
// and if the morning light sets in, we've cheated fate again //
