// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //
Her shoulder finds his chest with all the ease of a homing missile, and Asta’s arm curls around her shoulders easily to keep her tucked in and close. “When I was a teenager, I had zero idea what a romance novel even was.” He admits with a low chuckle. One that fades into a sigh that carries on the soft cool breeze, a scent of ozone lingering among the chocolate and chai, and Flora’s own beautiful scent. “But I too would have rather taken a nap than imagine anything of romance.” Though most of that was because he would have become food if he’d gone down that path.
And yes, that’s precisely where the butcher gets it from.
Feeling her nudge to his thigh, his attention flicks from the waves that dance in the distance toward her, finding the smile bloom slowly on his face. And while he does mourn the instances that had ruined it, he does think that in spite of it, they had fun. “You know that we would have had the most audacious wedding, if things were different.” It would have been the one of the century, with all the bells and whistles and gaudy attire, fit for a queen. But his tone is whimsical.
Ah, but then his attention fully flicks toward her with a raise of his brow, of terrible romantic decisions that has him all ears. His immediate internal response is Jack, but in the deadpan tone that is the equivalent of Susan. before he’s listening to her continue. He finds himself frowning anew, sharp teeth wanting to gnaw into something to alleviate the upset she had to have endured to have that shit show happen to her. “I wish I could put it more eloquently. Alas..” trailing off slightly, the butcher sighs and tilts his head, throwing up his glamour so that his horns won’t knock into her but that he can press his head to her own, his dark hair meshing into her blonde curls like a paintbrush in water. “That is horribly fucked up.” His tone shifts, more of that gritty Whitebrimness coming through with the wrinkle of distaste in his nose.
“You hurt him saving your people… He hurt you for what..? Because it would be fun? Make him somehow feel better?” He asks, hissing a touch, as if he’s quietly wondering what it might be like to bite a chunk out of the captain.
And yes, that’s precisely where the butcher gets it from.
Feeling her nudge to his thigh, his attention flicks from the waves that dance in the distance toward her, finding the smile bloom slowly on his face. And while he does mourn the instances that had ruined it, he does think that in spite of it, they had fun. “You know that we would have had the most audacious wedding, if things were different.” It would have been the one of the century, with all the bells and whistles and gaudy attire, fit for a queen. But his tone is whimsical.
Ah, but then his attention fully flicks toward her with a raise of his brow, of terrible romantic decisions that has him all ears. His immediate internal response is Jack, but in the deadpan tone that is the equivalent of Susan. before he’s listening to her continue. He finds himself frowning anew, sharp teeth wanting to gnaw into something to alleviate the upset she had to have endured to have that shit show happen to her. “I wish I could put it more eloquently. Alas..” trailing off slightly, the butcher sighs and tilts his head, throwing up his glamour so that his horns won’t knock into her but that he can press his head to her own, his dark hair meshing into her blonde curls like a paintbrush in water. “That is horribly fucked up.” His tone shifts, more of that gritty Whitebrimness coming through with the wrinkle of distaste in his nose.
“You hurt him saving your people… He hurt you for what..? Because it would be fun? Make him somehow feel better?” He asks, hissing a touch, as if he’s quietly wondering what it might be like to bite a chunk out of the captain.
Astaroth
// and i'll paint it red //
