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
His eyes remain closed as he waits for the changes, for however long it takes before Danta manages to swap the room into something else. He shifts with him, still keeping his eyes closed until he’s sure each and every portion is done. He feels the shift of the soft cushiony mattress beneath them turn to hard stone — to the stifling warmth and even the warm darkness that descends. It even smells like he remembers, the ashen soot of fire after fire, scorching ash into stone long past the ability to be heat up so far to melt as it had once before.
He does see the small burst of flame from behind his closed lids, but he doesn’t open them until Danta speaks, shifting with him to get more comfortable against the hard, rocky floor, tangled up with Danta in his arms and against him, as if he refuses to part especially in this dark memory.
He can’t help the way his muscles tense to hear the sounds from outside of the room, especially those of Morax’s crew, and when Danta’s voice reaches him, his dark gaze opens, adjusting to both the surrounding dark with the outline of light and the little flame Danta’s sparked to dance above their heads. He first looks to his lover, spotting the frown and obvious discomfort, before he looks around them.
It’s a place he had never been — because Danta would often be brought out whenever they had their fights. But somehow it makes sense why he’d never seen the other man out and about unless strictly necessary, especially with Morax and her crew as the guard to keep him in. Though he wonders if Danta ever wanted to escape, if this was all he knew for the time. The bare stone walls, the stifling heat, the absolute nothing but furs on the ground like he was nothing more than a dog left to have the scraps and an empty, pitiful doghouse.
The frown reflects on his face, too, and he twists so that he can lay on his side better and draw Danta closer, as if he might be able to be the one thing in this memory worth clinging to. Like he could be the piece of intricate blood red stained glass that gave the Maverick hope to not be swallowed up in this darkness.
“I am so sorry.” He says quietly, feeling the gravity of the situation, unable to provide any kind of jest or means to make it seem lighter than it was. But this was an oily black stain and no amount of witty cleaning would get rid of it, it would only smear it around more until it was bigger. So he tries to soak it up, to absorb it, because maybe if he can help Danta unload the burden, the oil stain might have a chance of fading ever so slightly. “You had to listen to them all day and night.. I cannot imagine.” The frown remains but he reaches up to brush his knuckles against Danta’s cheek, to thread through the blond at his temple and comb it back, offering a semblance of humanity in a very inhumane space.
He does see the small burst of flame from behind his closed lids, but he doesn’t open them until Danta speaks, shifting with him to get more comfortable against the hard, rocky floor, tangled up with Danta in his arms and against him, as if he refuses to part especially in this dark memory.
He can’t help the way his muscles tense to hear the sounds from outside of the room, especially those of Morax’s crew, and when Danta’s voice reaches him, his dark gaze opens, adjusting to both the surrounding dark with the outline of light and the little flame Danta’s sparked to dance above their heads. He first looks to his lover, spotting the frown and obvious discomfort, before he looks around them.
It’s a place he had never been — because Danta would often be brought out whenever they had their fights. But somehow it makes sense why he’d never seen the other man out and about unless strictly necessary, especially with Morax and her crew as the guard to keep him in. Though he wonders if Danta ever wanted to escape, if this was all he knew for the time. The bare stone walls, the stifling heat, the absolute nothing but furs on the ground like he was nothing more than a dog left to have the scraps and an empty, pitiful doghouse.
The frown reflects on his face, too, and he twists so that he can lay on his side better and draw Danta closer, as if he might be able to be the one thing in this memory worth clinging to. Like he could be the piece of intricate blood red stained glass that gave the Maverick hope to not be swallowed up in this darkness.
“I am so sorry.” He says quietly, feeling the gravity of the situation, unable to provide any kind of jest or means to make it seem lighter than it was. But this was an oily black stain and no amount of witty cleaning would get rid of it, it would only smear it around more until it was bigger. So he tries to soak it up, to absorb it, because maybe if he can help Danta unload the burden, the oil stain might have a chance of fading ever so slightly. “You had to listen to them all day and night.. I cannot imagine.” The frown remains but he reaches up to brush his knuckles against Danta’s cheek, to thread through the blond at his temple and comb it back, offering a semblance of humanity in a very inhumane space.
Astaroth
if you want me all to yourself, then take on the leap
