I told you, you were brave

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

Susan.

Shifting enough to settle over the other man, his chin pressed to his chest as he peers up at him, Danta can't help but quietly enjoy watching the idea take root in Asta's expression, the way he glances up at the ceiling and considers all the things they might do with the space. "Either that or we'll make sure there's an extremely comfortable sofa down here," he suggests with a smirk. "Though I suppose we could leave that level for all of your things and tuck ourselves away in the dark underneath it instead."

He doesn't know what he'd prefer, honestly; the decadence of being able to sleep above everything versus the comfort of being able to creep into a dark, covered space. It doesn't matter for now, he supposes, Danta turning his head to rest his cheek against Asta's chest, his ear pressed to the steady thrumming of his heart. "I bet we could ask Charlie to help move things."

Dantalion

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