[SE] melancholy hill

i'm the escape to something that's worse
i am the shadow driving the hearse

“No use in worrying about it now, no?” Comes the drawl on the heels of Danta’s own hum, the butcher refuses the thought of even parting from him for a second while he picks his lover up to bring him back toward the bed. It’s there that he still refuses to part, though he does extinguish his candlelit fingers so as to not burn the bed, he ensures that the Maverick is comfortable, even as he finds a way to check in on him.

As if Asta hadn’t just actually physically harmed the Maverick (unintentionally, of course). “I am okay now, darling.” He tries to reassure him, parting only momentarily to shed out of the pants and Danta’s sweater that he’d snagged, before he crawls into the bed and tugs Danta closer to him, embracing him in a way that both supports the left arm and connects them. “You will be sore later.” More than he was now, if Asta had to bet, and he might even need a sling depending on how stubborn Danta would be to try to use it without one. “But I will take care of you.” Comes the quiet vow, one that drips from his lips in a hum of protectiveness that’s paired with the warm press of his lips to the side of Danta’s neck where he noses in.

Astaroth

what was it like to feel in love?