// too many war wounds and not enough wars //
"Well, if it helps, you put me completely to shame when it comes to any actual dancing." You know, rather than just bumping and grinding on the dancefloor in The Hanged Man. Danta smiles over his shoulder and lets the side door fall shut behind them, leaving them in the dappled afternoon light beneath an awning. The crash of waves replaces the beat of the music and the voices from inside, accompanied by the distant call of seabirds and, farther away still, the murmur of dockhands and merchants and other citizens going about their day.
Taking a long breath in and sighing it out as well, Danta turns at the gentle squeeze of his fingers to find Asta slumping against the wall. Happy to close the distance between them, he leans in against the other man, one arm gently curling around his waist, the other brushing across his cheek as if to dust away the flush he finds there. "Sorry," he says, voice pitched low enough that the apology is for the butcher's ears only.
"I didn't think about the number of people. I blame the whiskey." Leaning in to rest his head against Asta's shoulder, his tail flicks slowly at his heels, as if contrite as well.
Taking a long breath in and sighing it out as well, Danta turns at the gentle squeeze of his fingers to find Asta slumping against the wall. Happy to close the distance between them, he leans in against the other man, one arm gently curling around his waist, the other brushing across his cheek as if to dust away the flush he finds there. "Sorry," he says, voice pitched low enough that the apology is for the butcher's ears only.
"I didn't think about the number of people. I blame the whiskey." Leaning in to rest his head against Asta's shoulder, his tail flicks slowly at his heels, as if contrite as well.
Dantalion
// too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
