// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
Even if his bloodlust is currently sated enough, the butcher doesn’t trust the nightmares from preventing him from pinning the Maverick down the second it became too real in his dreamscape. And such, he tries his best to let Danta’s lips and hands soothe the thrumming tension in his body, even if it wasn’t battered and painful like it had been that day back in Levinsward. At least he isn’t as drunk, either, and so the butcher focuses instead on tilting his head up and into the kisses that do remind him that however fucked up he is or has gotten, that Danta was there. Not as someone who understood what it was like, but because…
Because he loves him.
It’s a thought that strikes him just as sharply as seeing the blotted black nightmares of gore crows had, but in the opposite direction. As if the exhaled sigh that passes from his lips is one made of relief from the tension that has kept his hands shaking and his mind closed off in a ping pong battle of which horrors could beat the others out. He sags a fraction more, pressing back into the chaste kiss as much as he can while his mind wraps around the realizations, the attempts to feel better about the situation, and the understanding that while he was here, there would be no crows to haunt him. They had made a promise about it.
Shifting slightly as his arms wind a fraction tighter around the Maverick, he’s slow to nod as he tries to steady his breathing again from the flood of other emotions that have erupted within him. “I do want that.” He says on the air of a quiet whisper, withdrawing his hands to tuck the blanket around him tight and to give Danta an opening to stand and guide him to the windowsill. There isn’t a storm occurring outside, but it should be comforting all the same to be in the one place he knew he would be safe.
Because he loves him.
It’s a thought that strikes him just as sharply as seeing the blotted black nightmares of gore crows had, but in the opposite direction. As if the exhaled sigh that passes from his lips is one made of relief from the tension that has kept his hands shaking and his mind closed off in a ping pong battle of which horrors could beat the others out. He sags a fraction more, pressing back into the chaste kiss as much as he can while his mind wraps around the realizations, the attempts to feel better about the situation, and the understanding that while he was here, there would be no crows to haunt him. They had made a promise about it.
Shifting slightly as his arms wind a fraction tighter around the Maverick, he’s slow to nod as he tries to steady his breathing again from the flood of other emotions that have erupted within him. “I do want that.” He says on the air of a quiet whisper, withdrawing his hands to tuck the blanket around him tight and to give Danta an opening to stand and guide him to the windowsill. There isn’t a storm occurring outside, but it should be comforting all the same to be in the one place he knew he would be safe.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
