hold me tight or don't

// there's shadows on the walls //

Blinking his eyes open long before the nudge to his lower back, Danta is both trying and not to glance over his shoulder lest Asta be unsatisfied by his ramphire and has come seeking out better prey. Luckily the lial that appears is harmless if not absolutely caked in ichor, as is the butcher when he reappears. Leaning back on one hand, it's with a crooked smile that Danta is about to make comment on it, before his lips are promptly stolen and he's all but forced back into the grass.

Moaning something quiet but encouraging, his arms reach out to twine around the other man despite the blood and other filth he's covered in, Danta reluctant to part if only because he doesn't know if this is going to happen again any time soon. "My pleasure," he pants, his head tilting to rest against blood-slick hair, relishing in the warmth and dead weight of the other man blanketing his body.

"I'm glad you feel better," he continues in a whisper, before raising his eyebrows down at Asta. "...You do, right?"

Dantalion

// of moments far too troubling to recall //