Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.
Thal feels him lean a little closer, intimate in a way that would usually make her chafe, her body tensing on instinct. She may not dislike physical touch, but intimacy is something that scares the shit out of her, something that reminds her of everything she could lose, of all the ways someone so close could hurt her. But with Asta... it doesn't claw against her the same way. There's a solidarity in their shared moments, in the way he makes her feel accepted, safe.
Her body slowly adjusts to the sensation, relaxing into the proximity as he laughs softly in the firelight. She gives him a bitter smile, trying not to flinch again at the name, dry sarcasm coating her tongue. "That's a relief." If 'Lassie' still fit her, Thal might have to change her name entirely.
Listening quietly, she tries to imagine Asta as someone in such a different world, without his waistcoats, eloquent words, and refined manners. It's like trying to mix oil and water or fit a cube in the eye of a needle. She stops trying after a moment, her words soft with sincerity as she says, "I like this you better." As much as she hated everything about him when they'd first met (specifically being called 'darling'), she wouldn't change anything about him now. Except... "Although I wouldn't mind hearing the accent more." Her voice is playful, a reassurance that she accepts him as he is, that she likes these small things about him, even if she really likes hearing the thick rolls of his Rs when he's drunk. The smile on her face says as much, while it holds a deeper note of appreciation, of the weight of shared secrets.
Leaning her head against the allogator, she asks, "Where did 'Astaroth' come from?" And they're back to the tell me to shut it when I go too far.
Her body slowly adjusts to the sensation, relaxing into the proximity as he laughs softly in the firelight. She gives him a bitter smile, trying not to flinch again at the name, dry sarcasm coating her tongue. "That's a relief." If 'Lassie' still fit her, Thal might have to change her name entirely.
Listening quietly, she tries to imagine Asta as someone in such a different world, without his waistcoats, eloquent words, and refined manners. It's like trying to mix oil and water or fit a cube in the eye of a needle. She stops trying after a moment, her words soft with sincerity as she says, "I like this you better." As much as she hated everything about him when they'd first met (specifically being called 'darling'), she wouldn't change anything about him now. Except... "Although I wouldn't mind hearing the accent more." Her voice is playful, a reassurance that she accepts him as he is, that she likes these small things about him, even if she really likes hearing the thick rolls of his Rs when he's drunk. The smile on her face says as much, while it holds a deeper note of appreciation, of the weight of shared secrets.
Leaning her head against the allogator, she asks, "Where did 'Astaroth' come from?" And they're back to the tell me to shut it when I go too far.
Thalassa
