// with our one foot in the grave //
“Am I unlucky and boring?” Astaroth asks as he continues to try and clean up the footprints now marked into his shoulders. He stops, the second that Danta reaches out and smooths out his shirt. The butcher’s hands drop, his dark gaze focusing hard on the Maverick’s vibrant blues.
His fingers linger against his shirt and Astaroth’s lips form a smirk, stepping closer to Danta as his horned head cocks. “What do you intend to bet, darling?” Mischief sparks in his gaze and he presses back a touch harder into the touch, as if aiming to walk the blonde back up against the tree. Even if he doesn’t get anywhere, the butcher is fully invested in trying to see what exactly Danta would do.
His fingers linger against his shirt and Astaroth’s lips form a smirk, stepping closer to Danta as his horned head cocks. “What do you intend to bet, darling?” Mischief sparks in his gaze and he presses back a touch harder into the touch, as if aiming to walk the blonde back up against the tree. Even if he doesn’t get anywhere, the butcher is fully invested in trying to see what exactly Danta would do.
Astaroth
// while the other one's kicking its way right down to hell //
