fuck that shit let's start a riot

// you knew who I was //

"You couldn't have known this would happen. Neither of us could," Danta whispers, hushing him softly and caring very little for the blood that has stained their sheets and continues to coat his forearm and drip into their lap. It's a deep wound - a very deep wound, he'll come to find out - but it hasn't hit anything major and it isn't going to kill him, and sadly enough, he's been through worse in his life.

Carefully manoeuvring them so, if nothing else, he might settle Asta's bad arm against him where he can't move and injure it further, he presses the first of what will be many, many kisses against his dark hair. "You did," he agrees gently, not in the habit of trying to hide or shy away from the things both of them have done. "But you let me go when I asked you to as well."

Reaching up with that same bloody hand to wipe at Asta's wet cheeks (streaking them red instead, unfortunately), he turns his arm up so they might both survey the wound. "Look," he urges him softly. It's a brutal bite, one that will leave an equally brutal scar and will take its time in the healing, but it isn't the end of the world. "It will heal, and I'm still in one piece. And I've got you now. It'll be okay."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //