// make me bleed if you need to confirm that it's something i can do //
Gaze dancing between the way Flora’s fingers thread through Danta’s hair and the woman herself, the butcher also is keen to reject the idea of her being alone. But his lover says it better than he does, and his arm tightens a fraction in a small gentle squeeze before the pattern traces continue on the jut of her shoulder. “I shall warn you now, we run hot, darling.” Comes the soft hum, meeting her gaze as she responds to him. His own is warm, if not a touch tired. And it parts from her only to down another generous sip of the whiskey.
Her temple presses against his shoulder and his head tilts down to press his cheek to her forehead. Her admission is one that Asta can share, but it’s Danta’s confirmation that Flora was a natural that the butcher’s rumble of agreement vibrates in his throat before he can verbalize it. “It was my first, too, so you are in good company.” He purrs in the soft whisper of conspiracy and mischief, the whiskey smoke of his breath sweet in comparison. “But you did beautifully in my own limited experience.” He flashes her the too sharp smile, clear of blood and pale as ivory again, agreeing with Danta’s sentiment tenfold, enough that his gaze drops down to his lover with warmth and admiration too.
Maybe one day he’d have a better hold of his urges. But for now, she was fine and Danta didn’t need any healing, so all in all the butcher finds it to be a success. A success that entirely banked on Danta keeping Asta’s leash held tight.
Her temple presses against his shoulder and his head tilts down to press his cheek to her forehead. Her admission is one that Asta can share, but it’s Danta’s confirmation that Flora was a natural that the butcher’s rumble of agreement vibrates in his throat before he can verbalize it. “It was my first, too, so you are in good company.” He purrs in the soft whisper of conspiracy and mischief, the whiskey smoke of his breath sweet in comparison. “But you did beautifully in my own limited experience.” He flashes her the too sharp smile, clear of blood and pale as ivory again, agreeing with Danta’s sentiment tenfold, enough that his gaze drops down to his lover with warmth and admiration too.
Maybe one day he’d have a better hold of his urges. But for now, she was fine and Danta didn’t need any healing, so all in all the butcher finds it to be a success. A success that entirely banked on Danta keeping Asta’s leash held tight.
Astaroth
// and i'll paint it red //
