am i the wolf or the savior?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?
is my smile too sharp or just my teeth?
“Not always,” the butcher retorts around his laugh, rolling his eyes affectionately. There had been a time, long ago where he had slept quite well. But that was before tearing flesh and too sharp beaks and the cries of meat and eyes had traumatized him.
At any rate, they part, even as Astaroth mourns the loss of the warmth of the Maverick’s hand. It doesn’t last long as he makes his request and thankfully has it hidden from Danta as he stops to mingle. Feeling sly and yet still content, the butcher leans into the touch without a single care if anyone sees — exhaustion wearing him down into being clingy. His shoulder is bumped as he flashes that smile to the Maverick and he aims to snag Danta’s hand again, the butcher’s tail curling affectionately like a cat against the other man’s leg.
“Mhm, I would love nothing more.” He nods to the bartender already prepping things before he starts to take the lead, antlers in one hand along with the satchel at his belt, his other hopefully still within Danta’s grasp. The trek is a quick one, and any lingering tension in his shoulders begin to lessen with each step up the awful stairs to their bedroom. The door swings open and he steps aside, letting the Maverick step in first.
At any rate, they part, even as Astaroth mourns the loss of the warmth of the Maverick’s hand. It doesn’t last long as he makes his request and thankfully has it hidden from Danta as he stops to mingle. Feeling sly and yet still content, the butcher leans into the touch without a single care if anyone sees — exhaustion wearing him down into being clingy. His shoulder is bumped as he flashes that smile to the Maverick and he aims to snag Danta’s hand again, the butcher’s tail curling affectionately like a cat against the other man’s leg.
“Mhm, I would love nothing more.” He nods to the bartender already prepping things before he starts to take the lead, antlers in one hand along with the satchel at his belt, his other hopefully still within Danta’s grasp. The trek is a quick one, and any lingering tension in his shoulders begin to lessen with each step up the awful stairs to their bedroom. The door swings open and he steps aside, letting the Maverick step in first.
Astaroth
come a little closer
