// day breaks sorrow //
He focuses on the massage to Danta’s shoulder and the way he subtly shifts into it to help him work at that knot he’s found, all while he feels Flora’s hands, a gentle pressure with little feeling as it strokes down his spine gently. All things not felt very deeply, so far, because when she lightly tugs his hair he does feel that and its with a light shiver down his spine that greets Flora’s hands as they drag along his ribs. This portion of his skin, the lesser scarred of the rest is far more sensitive, and the work of her nails sparks goosebumps to pebble onto his skin.
It's distracting in a way that he’s belated when he answers them, a low hum of agreement with Danta. “My bloodlust is closer than I had anticipated.” Comes the additional explanation, head tilting to peer over his shoulder toward Flora again with an apologetic smile. “I managed well, I believe.” He touts a touch, reaching for the margarita to take a sip of it while Danta aims to refill the glasses.
It's precisely at this point that he sips from it that the butcher chokes with the revelation, sputtering a touch as Danta blurts out the question blaring in his mind. “Infected?!” The butcher chokes out through a throat burning from alcohol and choking, twisting to look at Flora with his brows pinched, a sudden pit in the butcher’s stomach yawning open and leaving him a bit pale. Aside from the two here (and Charlie, of course), the butcher considered Thal one of his best friends. How could he have missed it?
It's distracting in a way that he’s belated when he answers them, a low hum of agreement with Danta. “My bloodlust is closer than I had anticipated.” Comes the additional explanation, head tilting to peer over his shoulder toward Flora again with an apologetic smile. “I managed well, I believe.” He touts a touch, reaching for the margarita to take a sip of it while Danta aims to refill the glasses.
It's precisely at this point that he sips from it that the butcher chokes with the revelation, sputtering a touch as Danta blurts out the question blaring in his mind. “Infected?!” The butcher chokes out through a throat burning from alcohol and choking, twisting to look at Flora with his brows pinched, a sudden pit in the butcher’s stomach yawning open and leaving him a bit pale. Aside from the two here (and Charlie, of course), the butcher considered Thal one of his best friends. How could he have missed it?
Astaroth
// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //
