mississippi boys, inner city boys

you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name

He stuck to his word, dropping by the clinic to retrieve the books and sedative, tucking them under his arm as he paved his way along the shadows through Haulani toward the Inn. Finding out which room in particular that they were staying in sparks a touch of amusement in his gut, along the steady smile that lingers on his face as he drifts up the stairs and to the door.

He doesn’t try to be quiet, though. Why would he? Danta is quite the vision from where he stands along the balcony in the moonlight, smoke drifting from him and the tell tale glow of the cherry of the cigarette. He deposits the books on the nightstand, shrugging out of the floral red shirt and draping it on the bed as he passes.

He approaches, taking in the cuts and bruises forming, ones he definitely didn’t place and an air of jealousy flares upon his approach before he realizes that they aren’t exactly the type of love marks he’d initially thought.

Sidling up behind him, he traces a finger along Danta’s spine, avoiding each point of pain that might spark. “My, my, what did you get up to?” He hums, stepping up beside him and smoothly snagging the cigarette from between his fingers with a wink to lift it to his lips and steal a drag.

Astaroth

fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart