I'm not as think as you drunk I am

// you knew who I was //

Danta, who has been happily warbling his ballad and shaking his ass on the stage, finds himself unceremoniously cut off as the mic is snatched from his hands, and he whirls about to blink at Flora. At first he thinks she's here to join in (which, good, because it was getting difficult to balance the two sets of vocals) and there's a cheeky grin on his face until she starts fucking talking.

Hey, no, you can't-- fights to make it past his lips, and if he weren't so stunned he might have tried to flap his hands over Flora's mouth to keep her from saying such (blatantly true) blasphemies. Instead his gaze flashes across to Asta, and whoever gave that man the audacity to still look so composed and charming whilst shitfaced needs to sit down and take a break. Swallowing hard as he realises Flora isn't just airing his dirty laundry, it's with heat in his cheeks that he drags his eyes back from the butcher.

"Flora--" He both does and does want to reach out for her as he realises she's crying, but gods if the look on her face doesn't broker room for argument. And so, slinking off the stage and rubbing at the back of his neck, of course Danta makes a very swift exit.

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //