Astaroth
// but if you think I'm misery,
The low and sweet hum that leaves Flora’s lips immediately captivates his attention, dark eyes flicking over toward her rather than the excitement beyond the curtain. The way he stands and looks to her, she could likely clearly see the darkening mark she’s left on him, the way he swallows and surveys her.
It’s strange for the butcher to war his way between viewing her as a friend, one that had saved him from the wicked woman — to viewing her like she was nothing more than an offering. And while, yes, the goal of getting off would be nice, that isn’t the reason he’s imagining just how sweet her blood was. His head tilts a little, the silver chain and band dancing with the movement, a lock of dark hair coming loose from his carefully kept hair.
A turn of the season meant a long time, for him, and he’s careful when he plucks her white dress from the hanger and approaches her with it extended, dark gaze warring between himself and the prospects. “What happens in a turn of the season, darling?” He asks, curious just how she thinks it might go to make that an offer.
“Come, let’s get you dressed.” He flashes her an easier smile, turning the dress in his hands so that he might be able to slip it over jer head, letting her get her arms through it, before tugging it down completely and fussing over any wrinkles.
It’s strange for the butcher to war his way between viewing her as a friend, one that had saved him from the wicked woman — to viewing her like she was nothing more than an offering. And while, yes, the goal of getting off would be nice, that isn’t the reason he’s imagining just how sweet her blood was. His head tilts a little, the silver chain and band dancing with the movement, a lock of dark hair coming loose from his carefully kept hair.
A turn of the season meant a long time, for him, and he’s careful when he plucks her white dress from the hanger and approaches her with it extended, dark gaze warring between himself and the prospects. “What happens in a turn of the season, darling?” He asks, curious just how she thinks it might go to make that an offer.
“Come, let’s get you dressed.” He flashes her an easier smile, turning the dress in his hands so that he might be able to slip it over jer head, letting her get her arms through it, before tugging it down completely and fussing over any wrinkles.
then baby, all the company,
it never leaves me alone, no //
it never leaves me alone, no //
