i will never go backwards, i will never be seen
in the wake of disaster ...
in the wake of disaster ...
He does take into consideration the fact she would be utilizing his answers for her own love life, though it isn’t his place to ask why such questions mattered so much. What he can do, though, is answer them honestly. And he does. “Somewhat.” He admits with a small apologetic smile. “I knew that I was protective of him despite having no reason to be, and that I wanted nothing more than to ensure he was happy.” He rolls a shoulder in a small shrug. It’s a snort that comes from the butcher, next, inclining his head with a huff of a laugh.
It's a laugh that twists a bit more somber as he nods, his honesty coming through tenfold. “Yes.” There’s no hesitation as the word falls from his lips. “If it made him happy to, then yes.” Jealousy aside, it had been something he’d came to terms with when he had stuffed his own feelings down. If he was happy, then that’s what mattered to the butcher.
A huff leaves him, the chuckle soft as he plays into his dramatics when he draws up from the bow and tilts his head. “Oh, you can be honest, Flora darling. I look perfectly mundane.” His tone takes on the playful drama of how it could be the worst thing possible, even as his hand spiders out above his heart and he leans back in the picture-perfect image of being wounded. “I will, however, say that at times it saves my pillows from being shredded in the midst of the night.” So, it had its perks.
He drifts toward her again, though, letting go of his glamour to let the horns spiral out from his skull, the sharp points glinting in the light of fiery obsidian and his canines lengthen in the smile he shoots her way. “Is this better?”
It's a laugh that twists a bit more somber as he nods, his honesty coming through tenfold. “Yes.” There’s no hesitation as the word falls from his lips. “If it made him happy to, then yes.” Jealousy aside, it had been something he’d came to terms with when he had stuffed his own feelings down. If he was happy, then that’s what mattered to the butcher.
A huff leaves him, the chuckle soft as he plays into his dramatics when he draws up from the bow and tilts his head. “Oh, you can be honest, Flora darling. I look perfectly mundane.” His tone takes on the playful drama of how it could be the worst thing possible, even as his hand spiders out above his heart and he leans back in the picture-perfect image of being wounded. “I will, however, say that at times it saves my pillows from being shredded in the midst of the night.” So, it had its perks.
He drifts toward her again, though, letting go of his glamour to let the horns spiral out from his skull, the sharp points glinting in the light of fiery obsidian and his canines lengthen in the smile he shoots her way. “Is this better?”
Astaroth
will you sink down to me?
