// you knew who I was //
There's the expectation of pain that never comes, the way his body wants to fall bonelessly atop Flora mingling with the necessary tension of keeping Asta from either taking a chunk out of him or - worse, arguably - getting close enough to do it to the Doubletake. The moments pass in a wash of hard breath and heavy limbs, and it's only the unmistakeable flood of copper in the air and the way Asta's name falls from Flora's lips that clues Danta in to what's happened.
"It's okay--" he manages, just about, his forehead pressed to Flora's shoulder and his back arching under her soft and affectionate touch, before he's shifting back as if to force himself further into Asta's space and create that necessary distance. The healing water earns a relieved smile and a quick nod, though his hand is as tight in the back of the butcher's hair as it has been for the past few moments.
"Thanks," he whispers, his voice still rough with pleasure. "Let's give it a second for him to come back to us." So I can trust him to sit with you. Then there'll be time for cleaning up.
In the meantime Danta turns his head, nosing into Asta's hair to whisper to him softly - firm but gentle reminders of where they are, of the sweet smell of Flora's perfume, the heat rolling off their bodies, the way her touch feels against his arm. All things to direct them back across the line into people the butcher knows rather than just meat.
"It's okay--" he manages, just about, his forehead pressed to Flora's shoulder and his back arching under her soft and affectionate touch, before he's shifting back as if to force himself further into Asta's space and create that necessary distance. The healing water earns a relieved smile and a quick nod, though his hand is as tight in the back of the butcher's hair as it has been for the past few moments.
"Thanks," he whispers, his voice still rough with pleasure. "Let's give it a second for him to come back to us." So I can trust him to sit with you. Then there'll be time for cleaning up.
In the meantime Danta turns his head, nosing into Asta's hair to whisper to him softly - firm but gentle reminders of where they are, of the sweet smell of Flora's perfume, the heat rolling off their bodies, the way her touch feels against his arm. All things to direct them back across the line into people the butcher knows rather than just meat.
Dantalion
// with every step that I ran to you //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
