fuck that shit let's start a riot

// you knew who I was //

"Thank you." Smiling warmly and scooting closer as well, although Danta hasn't slipped himself back beneath the blankets yet (he fully intends to, he just knows better than to even pretend at the idea of going back to sleep right now), he's as close to the butcher as ever, holding the bowl of water steady for him. As an added bonus, the heat of the cloth against his chest does feel amazing, the Maverick letting out a long sigh and sitting still and quiet to let Asta work.

Having also partaken in the potent cocktail of drugs, Danta knows to speak up only because he's also beginning to feel a hundred percent better in himself, blinking open eyes that have slipped shut to tilt his head to the other man. "I'll send out a note to the Temple in a bit," he decides. "Have one of their healers with the fancy magic come to see us. I don't know about you but I wouldn't say no to being less injured."

Reaching for another of the cloths and rinsing it in the warm water, he reaches out to start wiping the blood from Asta's face and neck in turn, each movement slow and careful. "This will never happen to us again," he says quietly, sounding determined, and he isn't talking about lightning punches or broken shoulders. "We'll both make sure of it. Okay?"

Dantalion

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