// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //
Trailing alongside Danta as he leads the way, there’s hardly an inch of space between them as the butcher leeches warmth from Danta and his beautifully warm jacket, arm looped within his as they try to get through the Inner Quarter without so much of the snow getting into their clothes. “Even I can be persuaded now and again, darling.” He purrs, amusement flickering in his face as he casts a glance toward Danta, full of amusement and a hint of mystery.
He, too, kicks off the snow from his boots as they enter the shop, taking a moment under the awning to shake his head. The snow falls from his horns and melts into his hair by the time he steps in, unwinding the scarf from his neck as he follows Danta to the back booth. “I may have become a statue if we had taken any longer to get here.” He whines as he flits to take the seat opposite of Danta, sliding in and curling his tail around his leg beneath the table, sliding his gloves off and shrugging out of his trench coat — enough to let a flicker of flame sear through his hair to dry it completely without singing his clothes. “What is your favorite drink here?” He asks curiously, head tilting slightly as his dark gaze lands on Danta as he drifts that flicker of flame over toward his lover to dry the snow from his blonde hair, too.
He, too, kicks off the snow from his boots as they enter the shop, taking a moment under the awning to shake his head. The snow falls from his horns and melts into his hair by the time he steps in, unwinding the scarf from his neck as he follows Danta to the back booth. “I may have become a statue if we had taken any longer to get here.” He whines as he flits to take the seat opposite of Danta, sliding in and curling his tail around his leg beneath the table, sliding his gloves off and shrugging out of his trench coat — enough to let a flicker of flame sear through his hair to dry it completely without singing his clothes. “What is your favorite drink here?” He asks curiously, head tilting slightly as his dark gaze lands on Danta as he drifts that flicker of flame over toward his lover to dry the snow from his blonde hair, too.
Astaroth
// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //
