you tell me it feels a little colder

// too many war wounds and not enough wars //

With heat kindling between them, Danta doesn't feel the need to draw the fire up any further, and so it's in the soft flicker of twilight that he notices Asta begin to relax into sleep. Even so, as his hands finally still in the other man's dark locks, he can't help the private little smile that curls at his lips to hear that Asta feels the same - that he feels safe, even. "You are." The assurance is whispered easily against the crown of his head, Danta letting his eyes slip shut as well. "You are safe."

Not that he expects the words to be enough to keep the horrors from the butcher's subconscious, and as Danta drifts off, it's with the expectation of being awoken only a few hours from now to whatever Asta's nightmares decide to bring them.

So as he begins to awaken naturally, that's the first indicator that something is different, not that Danta is in any position to question it at first. His eyes blink open slowly to the soft morning light streaming in through the bay window, the Maverick huffing out a deep sigh and nestling further into the furs and the man still blanketing him. 

Only then does he realise that neither of them have so much as moved during the night, and his eyes open once again to check, first and foremost, that the butcher is alive. "Asta? Are you okay?" he asks hurriedly, voice rough with sleep but slightly panicked nonetheless.

Dantalion

// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //