hold me tight or don't

// there's shadows on the walls //

"Fuck-- gods, Asta," Danta blurts out as he walks all but headlong into the other man, stumbling back and only staying on his feet thanks to the butcher's guiding hands. "I didn't know you were so close," he apologises, more or less, still swaying a bit and hiccuping in a breath before huffing it out again, avoiding looking him in the face as if his life depends on it. Does that comment have a double meaning? Who the fuck knows at this point? "I mean, I was gonna see if..."

See what, exactly? See if he could avoid things for another few seasons by throwing himself into an apology to Flora? In his inebriation he can't even recall what had happened to make her march up and make her announcements, but he's got the dark, gut feeling that it's his fault, in part if not entirely. Swallowing and wondering briefly if he'd feel better if he threw up, the thought vanishes as he notices - really notices - the heat of the other man's hands on him.

"Asta, what the fuck?" he mutters.

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //