I told you, you were brave

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

He hasn't ever said them, not out loud, and Danta would remind him as much were it not for the fact that he's saying them now. Feeling the tension flee from his bones at the sound of Asta's voice - the Maverick isn't immune to how clumsy those words still feel on own his tongue, after all - he clasps him closer, forehead pressed to the other man's and an almost shy smile threatening on his lips. "I'll give you all the heads-up you want," he promises, relaxing fully into his lap and closing his eyes for a few moments.

"I'll always give you first refusal, too," he adds, his tone shifting towards something more wicked. "And I would expect nothing less. As a rule I don't like anyone else leaving any mementos on me anyway." Shifting enough for Asta to be able to see the lack of marks or bites or bruises on his skin (other than the fading ones already put there by the butcher), he raises his eyebrows. "Check for yourself."

Dantalion

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