you see right through the lies in my eyes, and it's all underneath
if you take the time to scratch the surface,
if you take the time to scratch the surface,
He’s tilted his head enough to be able to spot the peek leveled at him, enough that it warms the butcher’s heart to see as he stifles the previous thoughts of crows to focus on this and the feel of his lover’s hands against his skin, sharing the radiating warmth beneath the layers of clothes he wears. Smiling to see that Danta has figured out the point he’s made, the butcher hums a soft laugh. “So perhaps she may be a regular, it is hard to tell.” He announces, as if to answer the previous question.
But he has to agree – that it is nice to have more of their kind amongst the Grounds, and ones that could care less about whatever penchants of bloodlust the others had. “You are quite unique, though. Do not think I think you otherwise, darling.” He hums through a growing more tired voice, even as he wishes Danta wouldn’t let go just yet.
HE does, though, reluctantly as it is, but once his coat is buttoned up, the butcher doesn’t let him get far – tugging him back against him despite the way he drips everywhere, how his hair is now soaked and the tines of his horns each harbor droplets like a Christmas tree’s lights. “I love you.” He says, a seriousness in his tone as if he’s worried he might forget to say it, tugging him back in against him for a kiss he’s needed for what feels like forever when it truly hadn’t been that long.
Once he’s satisfied, he releases Danta so that they can walk back, rather than stand here in the rain, drowning out the dew that had formed on the grass and leaving the ground rather mushy to walk on.
But he has to agree – that it is nice to have more of their kind amongst the Grounds, and ones that could care less about whatever penchants of bloodlust the others had. “You are quite unique, though. Do not think I think you otherwise, darling.” He hums through a growing more tired voice, even as he wishes Danta wouldn’t let go just yet.
HE does, though, reluctantly as it is, but once his coat is buttoned up, the butcher doesn’t let him get far – tugging him back against him despite the way he drips everywhere, how his hair is now soaked and the tines of his horns each harbor droplets like a Christmas tree’s lights. “I love you.” He says, a seriousness in his tone as if he’s worried he might forget to say it, tugging him back in against him for a kiss he’s needed for what feels like forever when it truly hadn’t been that long.
Once he’s satisfied, he releases Danta so that they can walk back, rather than stand here in the rain, drowning out the dew that had formed on the grass and leaving the ground rather mushy to walk on.
Astaroth
i'll show you where the hurt is
