i tried to start caring like you and like them
when you said that i was killing myself
when you said that i was killing myself
Snorting to hear her assumption, he shrugs his good shoulder and concedes the point, dramatic as always with the way his head tilts and his less kempt hair than usual sways with the movement, hanging over the tines of his horns. “The teeth are intriguing, however, in my experience thus far it is quite rare to find someone truly invested in the idea of it.” He admits – and it’s honestly the alcohol speaking when he tacks on the last bit, a closeness between friends that he would otherwise keep to himself but is incapable of doing in this very moment. “It makes it difficult, given my penchant to bite.” He drifts his gaze away from her to pour a touch more liquor into his glass, picking it up after to swirl it in the glass as he watches the amber hue of it spin with the dancing shadows of the fire behind him.
But he offers his advice on what she can do for the lisp, and hearing her attempt at the tongue twister this time, it has improved, and his grin broadens with it as he perks up. “Ah, that sounds far better than it had, darling!” Comes the easy praise, lifting his glass in a small toast to her, sipping the reward of it as she reaches into her pocket. He isn’t quite sure why, until he’s lowered the glass and spots the round piece of metal and the clink it makes against his desk. Setting the glass down and cocking his head at it, his honey gaze lifts toward her curiously.
“Oh?” Confusion flares for a moment before he picks it up, popping it open to see that it was a pocket mirror. Yet the longer he holds it the more confused he seems to be, drunkenly snorting before his gaze drifts from his flushed reflection from the alcohol they’ve drank, to peer up at Thalassa with a raised brow. “Are you insinuating that I am vain?” He teases her (because, oh yes, he absolutely 10000% is vain), his playfulness at an all time high – likely, because while the butcher was quite fond of giving gifts out, he wasn’t so great at receiving them.
Or, apparently, figuring out what they did.
But he offers his advice on what she can do for the lisp, and hearing her attempt at the tongue twister this time, it has improved, and his grin broadens with it as he perks up. “Ah, that sounds far better than it had, darling!” Comes the easy praise, lifting his glass in a small toast to her, sipping the reward of it as she reaches into her pocket. He isn’t quite sure why, until he’s lowered the glass and spots the round piece of metal and the clink it makes against his desk. Setting the glass down and cocking his head at it, his honey gaze lifts toward her curiously.
“Oh?” Confusion flares for a moment before he picks it up, popping it open to see that it was a pocket mirror. Yet the longer he holds it the more confused he seems to be, drunkenly snorting before his gaze drifts from his flushed reflection from the alcohol they’ve drank, to peer up at Thalassa with a raised brow. “Are you insinuating that I am vain?” He teases her (because, oh yes, he absolutely 10000% is vain), his playfulness at an all time high – likely, because while the butcher was quite fond of giving gifts out, he wasn’t so great at receiving them.
Or, apparently, figuring out what they did.
Astaroth
healed everything but my shame
