run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
The agreement and the teasing wear on him, so mentally fractured as he is, it’s very easy to slip into the comfortable banter to try and push away the self loathing that has come to the forefront of his mind. “I suppose it depends on who you are glaring at.” He replies – because as he’s found out from working here, there’s a variety of their patrons who are into that kind of thing. And Astaroth, despite claiming he can be an impartial person and does not judge initially, does have a tendency of letting it be so easily read on his face.
(Insert the Cillian Murphy interview reactions)
He draws silent to sip from the cup, to let the drugs to their work and to try and warm up all of the hollow feelings in his chest and body, trying to repair the fractured mentality that has wormed its way in. He finds his gaze drifting to the bandaged arm again and again, until his lover’s voice drags his attention elsewhere and he finds his dark gaze lifting to ensure he’s heard him right. “Yes. I can do that.” He murmurs softly, already planning on getting a breakfast that has all of Danta’s favorite things as an additional apology for biting the fuck out of his arm.
And it’s that though that has him draining the cup of tea, forcing himself to not push away from Danta in his self-deprecation and instead leans in to steal a kiss, one that’s adoring as much as it is apologetic. Only then does he manage to slip off the bed, taking some time to get a loose yet comfortable pair of pants on and a shirt haphazardly tugged on – the front open where it would usually button so that he doesn’t have to try and fight his arm getting into it. “I will be right back, darling.” He hums wearily, mentally drained, but realizing he’s going to be staying up for quite some time after this.
(Insert the Cillian Murphy interview reactions)
He draws silent to sip from the cup, to let the drugs to their work and to try and warm up all of the hollow feelings in his chest and body, trying to repair the fractured mentality that has wormed its way in. He finds his gaze drifting to the bandaged arm again and again, until his lover’s voice drags his attention elsewhere and he finds his dark gaze lifting to ensure he’s heard him right. “Yes. I can do that.” He murmurs softly, already planning on getting a breakfast that has all of Danta’s favorite things as an additional apology for biting the fuck out of his arm.
And it’s that though that has him draining the cup of tea, forcing himself to not push away from Danta in his self-deprecation and instead leans in to steal a kiss, one that’s adoring as much as it is apologetic. Only then does he manage to slip off the bed, taking some time to get a loose yet comfortable pair of pants on and a shirt haphazardly tugged on – the front open where it would usually button so that he doesn’t have to try and fight his arm getting into it. “I will be right back, darling.” He hums wearily, mentally drained, but realizing he’s going to be staying up for quite some time after this.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
