you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name
He knows it, deep down, that he didn’t have to give her anything for her help. But Asta’s love language was gift giving. He was the type to wander through a store and simply purchase something because he thought someone he knew might like it. It’s the same here – that she didn’t have to help him or be that guide to push him through the last leg of it. But she did. And he appreciates her immensely for it and her friendship throughout all of this. “It is quite good.” He confirms easily, settling in to take the glass as she pours the bourbon, before he settles back and his smile grows easier, still sharp, but gentler somehow.
“I can confirm that I was not a fan of it.” He adds on with his own playful tease, the fact that he didn’t have a chance to be his usually annoying cocky self because he was so worried about the shadows of corvids hanging around his shoulders, lurking in the shadows. But as she leans forward and raises her glass, he mirrors her in the same, raising his glass with a brighter smile. “To conquered fears.” He agrees, leaning forward enough to clink his glass gently against hers before he takes a sip.
Leaning back as the familiar burn lingers in his throat, he looks back at her with a comfortable ease between two friends. “There is something else I wished to speak with you about. I simply forgot during the training..” He rolls his eyes dramatically – because how could he have forgotten? (Of course it was the crows.) “There are a few of us that are a part of a guild. One that’s bathed in shadows and secrecy. It sounded as if it may be something you might be interested in?” Given her penchant for knives, shadows, and striking when least expected.
“I can confirm that I was not a fan of it.” He adds on with his own playful tease, the fact that he didn’t have a chance to be his usually annoying cocky self because he was so worried about the shadows of corvids hanging around his shoulders, lurking in the shadows. But as she leans forward and raises her glass, he mirrors her in the same, raising his glass with a brighter smile. “To conquered fears.” He agrees, leaning forward enough to clink his glass gently against hers before he takes a sip.
Leaning back as the familiar burn lingers in his throat, he looks back at her with a comfortable ease between two friends. “There is something else I wished to speak with you about. I simply forgot during the training..” He rolls his eyes dramatically – because how could he have forgotten? (Of course it was the crows.) “There are a few of us that are a part of a guild. One that’s bathed in shadows and secrecy. It sounded as if it may be something you might be interested in?” Given her penchant for knives, shadows, and striking when least expected.
Astaroth
fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart
