we thieves and lovers will keep up our urges to sin, to sin
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
let your desire be simply acquired within, within
It would be like making it the old Climb.. Which in theory sounded decent to him, but recognizing what it held for Danta? Well, he avoids it unless the other man decides he wants to delve down that avenue too. For now, though, the butcher snorts as Danta ducks into the house, flashing a too sharp grin at his lover as he snorts. “Oh I am sure I have said worse, perhaps you were not paying attention.” He touts proudly, drifting into the home further so he can place the bags on the bed, the butcher turns back toward Danta with that same kind of amusement lingering in his face.
“Mm, it would be quite lovely to see you take on my sister.” He drawls as he heads toward the campfire in the middle, just about the time Danta draws up flame, illuminating the bare walls around them. Smoke is a heavy scent in the room, and it makes all that much more sense why it clings to the butcher aside from his occasional indulgence in it. He was practically born from smoke.
Nodding as he watches Danta drift toward the knives, he joins him – his arm sweeping up to brush against Danta’s lower back, affectionate. “I had to do something with my time.” He snorts, flashing his lover a bright smile before he turns back to the wall – plucking a curved knife from the wall that otherwise looks boring and plain, before flipping it over as if it were a secret, revealing a carefully decorated handle on one half of it – etched designs of luxere, ursurs, and frost foxes sit in the bone that makes up the handle. For the metal blade, however, the curve breaks way for a large dragon – likely, the white dragons that plagued Halo. “This one is my favorite.” He says, handing it to his lover before he leans into him a touch, watching as he inspects it.
“Mm, it would be quite lovely to see you take on my sister.” He drawls as he heads toward the campfire in the middle, just about the time Danta draws up flame, illuminating the bare walls around them. Smoke is a heavy scent in the room, and it makes all that much more sense why it clings to the butcher aside from his occasional indulgence in it. He was practically born from smoke.
Nodding as he watches Danta drift toward the knives, he joins him – his arm sweeping up to brush against Danta’s lower back, affectionate. “I had to do something with my time.” He snorts, flashing his lover a bright smile before he turns back to the wall – plucking a curved knife from the wall that otherwise looks boring and plain, before flipping it over as if it were a secret, revealing a carefully decorated handle on one half of it – etched designs of luxere, ursurs, and frost foxes sit in the bone that makes up the handle. For the metal blade, however, the curve breaks way for a large dragon – likely, the white dragons that plagued Halo. “This one is my favorite.” He says, handing it to his lover before he leans into him a touch, watching as he inspects it.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
