[SE] with dirt on your knees and blood in your teeth

// I wish I had a reason //

"Or," Danta says softly, and somehow it's worse to think about, "we aren't being targeted. And this is just another cruel thing the Family are doing to let us know they're out there and they aren't going away." And there's nothing they can do about it, apparently. Scowling towards the ground as Asta leads him out of the room, Danta tugs the door to his office shut and trails after him, cold fingers clasped in the butcher's.

Following his gaze out of the window and then scrunching his nose as he heads up the stairs, he can't help but scoff to the other man at the prospect of him getting ill. "I don't catch colds," he announces - he can't remember the last time he'd been unwell where it hadn't involved being struck by lightning or maimed by something or other, anyway.

Still, padding into their bedroom and relishing the stifling heat Asta draws up from the fireplace, Danta peels off his shirt with his lover's assistance and reaches out to snag for a towel once he's free. Drawing up his glamour and dismissing his horns, he spends a moment or so rubbing at his wet hair, peering up only at the first rumble of thunder from outside. "Looks like I got home just in time."

Dantalion

// my flaws are open season //