reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
Here’s the thing, Astaroth for all of his dress smarts, is oblivious to any feelings other than survival, bloodlust, and anger. Attraction is attraction, and oftentimes he doesn’t delve further than simply that’s lovely. Love? That’s a whole ballgame that doesn’t exist in the horned head of the butcher. So when it comes to the question Danta poses while they walk, he tilts his head a little, squinting down the path they take.
“She is great company.” He says in a tone that matches ’on the contrary’. “But I worry that I will not know the point of when it becomes serious, does that make sense?” It probably doesn’t, and the butcher is just naming out things that he should have seen a mile away. (Refer back to the obliviousness).
Looking over at Danta with a snort and turning partially toward him, the cool breeze blowing across them and ruffling his kempt hair, blowing it over one shoulder. “Would you attach a stable to the Dusklight?” Comes the playful tease.
“She is great company.” He says in a tone that matches ’on the contrary’. “But I worry that I will not know the point of when it becomes serious, does that make sense?” It probably doesn’t, and the butcher is just naming out things that he should have seen a mile away. (Refer back to the obliviousness).
Looking over at Danta with a snort and turning partially toward him, the cool breeze blowing across them and ruffling his kempt hair, blowing it over one shoulder. “Would you attach a stable to the Dusklight?” Comes the playful tease.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
