reaching for a book of matches
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
strike a light and then you'll see the real mess that i am
Astaroth doesn’t watch as Jack departs, nor is he aware enough to see what kind of mixture of thoughts Flora is having. If he weren’t on the verge of letting his panic overcome him, he might actually have paid more attention to understand their particular interactions better. As it stands, he simply continues his mantra over and over again, his internal monologue nothing but leash after leash to try and keep himself tethered.
Until he’s starting to pick the path back, silent and not paying attention enough to feel the awkward atmosphere. It isn’t until her voice reaches him that he pauses, tail twitching as it continues its sweeping motion like it’s lagging out before he lets his dark gaze look back toward her. Gone is anything honey and sweet, instead replaced by an inky blackness that seems like it might swallow everything whole. “You did too.” He says – because she always does. But at least this time she didn’t have to physically save him or fill his bones with starlight – not that he’d expect her to after.. well, everything.
“You didn’t… have to help me, but you did. So thanks for that.” Still, the typically soft and gentle, suave tones are gone for that grittiness, that sharp edge that has his too sharp teeth clicking over the consonants, even as he tears his attention back toward the path picked, stepping over a tree root that would likely be a tripping hazard if he hadn’t been staring between the path and the ground in the past few seconds.
Until he’s starting to pick the path back, silent and not paying attention enough to feel the awkward atmosphere. It isn’t until her voice reaches him that he pauses, tail twitching as it continues its sweeping motion like it’s lagging out before he lets his dark gaze look back toward her. Gone is anything honey and sweet, instead replaced by an inky blackness that seems like it might swallow everything whole. “You did too.” He says – because she always does. But at least this time she didn’t have to physically save him or fill his bones with starlight – not that he’d expect her to after.. well, everything.
“You didn’t… have to help me, but you did. So thanks for that.” Still, the typically soft and gentle, suave tones are gone for that grittiness, that sharp edge that has his too sharp teeth clicking over the consonants, even as he tears his attention back toward the path picked, stepping over a tree root that would likely be a tripping hazard if he hadn’t been staring between the path and the ground in the past few seconds.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
