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
“Darling, the version of you that woke me is already rolling in his grave to see us together at all.” Comes the cocky response, a low chuckle accompanying his path to the door to retrieve their food and drinks. Once it’s secured and he’s handing Danta the glasses and wine, the butcher trails after Danta toward the center of the village again, though he doesn’t stop under the starry sky in the center of everything.
Instead, the butcher opens the door to his home, letting Danta in first before he follows after him, setting the tray down by the still blooming fire in the center. After a few moments of shifting his thoughts, the room changes. The bed at the back becomes larger, softer, not made of a snowpack and dirt but rather the comfort of a lush mattress still lined and adorned with furs and hand woven blankets.
The next to change are the walls of the house, expanding them out a fraction to layer the sides with shelves, adorning them with feathers and charms not unlike their home back at the Grounds. And off to the side of the fireplace there’s room for a small table now, one he plucks the tray up from the floor to set on it, before he’s finally ready to take the glass Danta had poured for him. The fire brings a stifling and comfortable warmth for the Ancients and Asta sips from it lightly, plucking a piece of summer sausage from the plate to nibble at before snagging one for Danta, sidling over to invade his space to offer it. “Is this better?” He asks as mischief glitters in his gaze.
Instead, the butcher opens the door to his home, letting Danta in first before he follows after him, setting the tray down by the still blooming fire in the center. After a few moments of shifting his thoughts, the room changes. The bed at the back becomes larger, softer, not made of a snowpack and dirt but rather the comfort of a lush mattress still lined and adorned with furs and hand woven blankets.
The next to change are the walls of the house, expanding them out a fraction to layer the sides with shelves, adorning them with feathers and charms not unlike their home back at the Grounds. And off to the side of the fireplace there’s room for a small table now, one he plucks the tray up from the floor to set on it, before he’s finally ready to take the glass Danta had poured for him. The fire brings a stifling and comfortable warmth for the Ancients and Asta sips from it lightly, plucking a piece of summer sausage from the plate to nibble at before snagging one for Danta, sidling over to invade his space to offer it. “Is this better?” He asks as mischief glitters in his gaze.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
