// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
It hadn’t been something he’d anticipated on the date with Flora – but already having it happen twice in a row for the butcher leads him to think that perhaps things are different now – though it wasn’t like the cannibals were all that different. Whitebrim didn’t have dates, and when he’d been allowed to venture out and learn after becoming Ancient, the butcher had been around during a time where people were large fans of courting and the like. Here, though, he’s managed to find the mix – Danta’s managed to restrain his attempts to praying mantis him, and so far everything has been nothing but perfect.
In such, that he doesn’t care about the protests from the Maverick as he withdraws before his lungs hurt, instead huffing a laugh at the dark smirk and remark that meet him, head tilting easily to offer up more room for the blonde’s lips to trail against his bearded jaw, against his heartbeat that still thunders in his neck. “The bar may be low, but it was not on the ground, darling.” He retorts haughtily, arms unwrapping from around the other man to run his hands up and down his sides in slow stokes, bunching up the dark bloodstained shirt the Maverick wears.
“I have some potential options once we clean up.” He starts to say, head tilting a bit further to give the other man some more room along the expanse of his bronzed neck, the smokiness of his scent lingering mostly by his collar. “We could get tea or you could come with me to my tailor if there were anything you wanted made… or we could peruse the markets?” He trails the options out slowly as if savoring each and every touch, making no attempt to move just yet.
In such, that he doesn’t care about the protests from the Maverick as he withdraws before his lungs hurt, instead huffing a laugh at the dark smirk and remark that meet him, head tilting easily to offer up more room for the blonde’s lips to trail against his bearded jaw, against his heartbeat that still thunders in his neck. “The bar may be low, but it was not on the ground, darling.” He retorts haughtily, arms unwrapping from around the other man to run his hands up and down his sides in slow stokes, bunching up the dark bloodstained shirt the Maverick wears.
“I have some potential options once we clean up.” He starts to say, head tilting a bit further to give the other man some more room along the expanse of his bronzed neck, the smokiness of his scent lingering mostly by his collar. “We could get tea or you could come with me to my tailor if there were anything you wanted made… or we could peruse the markets?” He trails the options out slowly as if savoring each and every touch, making no attempt to move just yet.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
