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 was used to taking the blame – whether or not he wanted to or not. Whether it was right to or not. And to hear her hey behind him in the state that he’s in, it half registers after he’s stepping out of her reach, until her voice continues and he hesitates, allowing her a chance to catch up beside him and his dark gaze glances toward her as honesties pour out. “I do think of you better than me. You’re the opposite of me, Flora.” She was light where he was shadow, she was royalty where he was an exiled clan of cannibals, she was power when he was playing at it ever since coming back from stone.
Fields begin to brush against his dark pants and he pays it no heed in the face of Maea’s complaints and everything that had gone on not more than a season ago. He focuses ahead, letting another deep chuckle escape him as he cocks his head this way and that, as if she had points he could argue with her point – specific ones that he had not told her to keep her from thinking him as low as he is.
But she does make wonderful points about Maea that has his tail from lashing awkwardly and zigzagging into more of a calm – like the chat they’re having is keeping him from delving into the worst parts of his mind, even if it seems like a very tight rope they’re walking. “You’re right about that.” He admits with a heavy sigh instead, before he notices the way she picks the path through the grasses differently, to keep the blades from touching her skin. So he pauses, because focusing on her and loosening his chaotic tendencies a bit at a time meant a lesser breakdown later, he reaches for her elbow to get her to still and stand beside him as he takes a step forward and blasts out a stream of fire to burn away the grass and flatten it to make her path easier to walk.
As it smokes and starts to cool down, he looks back at her with a small shrug – very much not at all like the man she’d known. “Would’ve ruined the date in other ways, I guess.” He admits – fully aware that it had been ruined to begin with, but killing Maea would have really been a curve ball. “I kind of like the idea of her stewing over it and panicking whenever I show up. Reminds me of the stories that were written about me.” He flashes her small sharp smirk that almost has a touch of mania before it soothes out like the ash from the grasses being taken away on the wind.
Fields begin to brush against his dark pants and he pays it no heed in the face of Maea’s complaints and everything that had gone on not more than a season ago. He focuses ahead, letting another deep chuckle escape him as he cocks his head this way and that, as if she had points he could argue with her point – specific ones that he had not told her to keep her from thinking him as low as he is.
But she does make wonderful points about Maea that has his tail from lashing awkwardly and zigzagging into more of a calm – like the chat they’re having is keeping him from delving into the worst parts of his mind, even if it seems like a very tight rope they’re walking. “You’re right about that.” He admits with a heavy sigh instead, before he notices the way she picks the path through the grasses differently, to keep the blades from touching her skin. So he pauses, because focusing on her and loosening his chaotic tendencies a bit at a time meant a lesser breakdown later, he reaches for her elbow to get her to still and stand beside him as he takes a step forward and blasts out a stream of fire to burn away the grass and flatten it to make her path easier to walk.
As it smokes and starts to cool down, he looks back at her with a small shrug – very much not at all like the man she’d known. “Would’ve ruined the date in other ways, I guess.” He admits – fully aware that it had been ruined to begin with, but killing Maea would have really been a curve ball. “I kind of like the idea of her stewing over it and panicking whenever I show up. Reminds me of the stories that were written about me.” He flashes her small sharp smirk that almost has a touch of mania before it soothes out like the ash from the grasses being taken away on the wind.
Astaroth
i swear it's nothing personal - i swear it's nothing personal //////
