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
Relief might spread through Danta’s body, but tension swells in his, trying to figure out how it must have gone so wrong so quickly. It’s what breeds the frustration in his bones, the uncertainty of how to start the conversation. The fact that the two of them barely knew each other, and what she might feel if they were to continue with her knowing what he was.
His tail continues to whip as he walks down the hall, tension in his shoulders and making him appear more butcher than the Asta that had awoken, and he pauses by the door to hear Danta’s voice with a soft nod, a glance over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Danta.” It’s deeper than previously, like he's distracted, and he opens the door to slink in and shut it behind him.
Locking it immediately, the butcher does little more than sit at the foot of his bed and play with the fire he rages in the fireplace, situating his thoughts as the minutes and hours tick on.
His tail continues to whip as he walks down the hall, tension in his shoulders and making him appear more butcher than the Asta that had awoken, and he pauses by the door to hear Danta’s voice with a soft nod, a glance over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Danta.” It’s deeper than previously, like he's distracted, and he opens the door to slink in and shut it behind him.
Locking it immediately, the butcher does little more than sit at the foot of his bed and play with the fire he rages in the fireplace, situating his thoughts as the minutes and hours tick on.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
