steal a moment of your time

you were destined for the glory, the honor and the fame
i was destined for the bullet, to be the gun with no name

Maybe they are at the point of delirium, because Astaroth finds himself snickering like a teenager as Thal makes her joke, unable to keep the grin from remaining on his face, deepening his smile lines in the reflected light of the fire. “The Gentleman Butcher, hm?” He chuckles deeply as they walk and pluck their path back toward her home.

He doesn’t care about the need to be stealthy. They were satisfied in their bloodlust. But as she looks at him, Asta meets her gaze and chuckles further to hear she might sit in the fire, and he lets all of his dramatics show in his face. The widening of his eyes, the playful gasp. “But darling, your clothes!” He laments as his voice pours over the words playfully, snickering with more banter as her home becomes visible.

“I will take the fall on that.” Stepping up to the entrance of her home, he waits patiently for her to slip in first — being the gentleman and all that — before he slips in after her and dispels the fire completely. “It was worth it, though.” He tacks on in a sing-song voice, beaming a grin toward her before he succumbs to trying to dry off.

Astaroth

fate's been playing the long game on us, sweetheart