// standing, stomping in the damage and the ruins of a slip of tongue //
He knows Danta wouldn’t ask him to change it, and even if he did the butcher thinks it’s the one thing he would not find himself capable of doing. So in complete agreement, still love drunk on the scent of citrus and sage, the butcher doesn’t think he will change his mind — even as his kohl lined gaze scans the jewels forever shining in the Maverick’s ears. “I am.” He confirms despite knowing Danta’s already going through with it.
It’s strange, because for all of the inconsistencies of feeling the majority of the butcher’s torso harbors, the butcher’s ears and face are still quite sensitive. So while he only half expects the pain, it isn’t nearly as bad as he thought it might be. He does still sharply inhale to feel the pierce of the needle, the blood filling his senses despite it being naught more than a bead, and the mixture of the iron and citrus and sage makes his mahogany gaze darken a touch more coy. “Are you intending to do just the one?” He asks, voice a touch rougher, remaining still for the Maverick to slip the stud in.
It’s strange, because for all of the inconsistencies of feeling the majority of the butcher’s torso harbors, the butcher’s ears and face are still quite sensitive. So while he only half expects the pain, it isn’t nearly as bad as he thought it might be. He does still sharply inhale to feel the pierce of the needle, the blood filling his senses despite it being naught more than a bead, and the mixture of the iron and citrus and sage makes his mahogany gaze darken a touch more coy. “Are you intending to do just the one?” He asks, voice a touch rougher, remaining still for the Maverick to slip the stud in.
Astaroth
// with tragic consequences, i think that we've all made our gravest mistakes //
