the evidence is on my body
but I never complain
but I never complain
They do both know it would be an absolute nightmare to try and wake the Maverick from his slumber – so they will agree to disagree that it’s an option on the table. At least they will have agreed enough to make it seem as though they’re on the same page when it comes to being questioned.
Not that Asta thinks anyone would question them.
But either way, the butcher gets his flare of dramatics out of the way and beams his shark toothed grin greedily as the blonde steps toward him, his nose infiltrated with smoky sage, underlined with the scent of Danta’s fresher own scent, playfully wrinkling his nose as the fire stutters around his fire obsidian horns as if the sage was actually doing anything to him. “ I cannot make any guarantees, but I shall try to let it purify me.” He drawls as Danta’s wink and laugh rub off on the butcher, his smile softening as the fire dies from around his horns and he watches easily as the Maverick splits the sage around the room with grace, like he’s done it a thousand times – but it gives ample time for the butcher to allow himself to be lovesick for a moment where nobody but himself can see.
Until, of course, the sage is deposited and the butcher follows the nod to their den, already ridding the bag so he doesn’t need to remove it as he collects the last two candles – another in a hue of red glass while the other’s in hues of gold, streaked with black. Fitting, he thinks, as he dips into their darkened den, setting the golden candle on his side of the nightstand before putting the red one on Danta’s side, before he sinks down onto the bed and conjures another ribbon of flame to dip into both candles to set them merrily alight, before the ribbon is seeking out the Maverick to affectionately glide through blonde strands and along the sharp jut of his cheek. “I would say if nothing else, our room shall be adequately protected.” And if they have anything else to add, well, it’s just a cherry on top is it not?
Not that Asta thinks anyone would question them.
But either way, the butcher gets his flare of dramatics out of the way and beams his shark toothed grin greedily as the blonde steps toward him, his nose infiltrated with smoky sage, underlined with the scent of Danta’s fresher own scent, playfully wrinkling his nose as the fire stutters around his fire obsidian horns as if the sage was actually doing anything to him. “ I cannot make any guarantees, but I shall try to let it purify me.” He drawls as Danta’s wink and laugh rub off on the butcher, his smile softening as the fire dies from around his horns and he watches easily as the Maverick splits the sage around the room with grace, like he’s done it a thousand times – but it gives ample time for the butcher to allow himself to be lovesick for a moment where nobody but himself can see.
Until, of course, the sage is deposited and the butcher follows the nod to their den, already ridding the bag so he doesn’t need to remove it as he collects the last two candles – another in a hue of red glass while the other’s in hues of gold, streaked with black. Fitting, he thinks, as he dips into their darkened den, setting the golden candle on his side of the nightstand before putting the red one on Danta’s side, before he sinks down onto the bed and conjures another ribbon of flame to dip into both candles to set them merrily alight, before the ribbon is seeking out the Maverick to affectionately glide through blonde strands and along the sharp jut of his cheek. “I would say if nothing else, our room shall be adequately protected.” And if they have anything else to add, well, it’s just a cherry on top is it not?
Astaroth
i wear it as a lesson, a curse, and a blessing
