// the kinda wrong that make you feel right //
"As if I could be anything else," Danta mutters, the words low and quiet like a secret. Once, his response would have been all bravado, waving off the butcher's comment or acting as if this was all part of some transaction between them. Those days, evidently, are long gone. And as Asta levers himself to half sit up, it's with a huff of amusement that Danta's arms close around him, as if to prevent him from slouching away again.
"There's a pot of soup over the fire, and some bread and fruit and cheese," he advises - not that he thinks Asta will be going to eat any time soon, not if the Maverick has anything to do with it. Shifting to slouch down on the couch and drawing the butcher over him like a blanket, the change in position offers him a chance to fully stretch out, his back arching and crackling deliciously, toes pressing against the plush cushions.
Letting his arms slip around Asta once more, careful of his bad shoulder, he strokes indulgent fingers down the length of his back over the blankets, nosing into his dark hair. "I didn't expect you to sleep for that long," he confesses, grinning. "My legs are dead."
"There's a pot of soup over the fire, and some bread and fruit and cheese," he advises - not that he thinks Asta will be going to eat any time soon, not if the Maverick has anything to do with it. Shifting to slouch down on the couch and drawing the butcher over him like a blanket, the change in position offers him a chance to fully stretch out, his back arching and crackling deliciously, toes pressing against the plush cushions.
Letting his arms slip around Asta once more, careful of his bad shoulder, he strokes indulgent fingers down the length of his back over the blankets, nosing into his dark hair. "I didn't expect you to sleep for that long," he confesses, grinning. "My legs are dead."
Dantalion
// the little death that make you feel alive //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
