// i get a toothache every time i lie to someone i love //
A shame then, that the sailor that had suggested this place would have to come back by chance to hear just what they thought of the place. All good things, at least. Though, if the Dusklight was a place he frequented, he’s sure that the man would’ve been less likely to recommend a true shithole. Luckily for them, this isn’t that, and it’s with a lot of surprise and content that the butcher secures them a room right as Danta joins them.
“That sounds perfect, darling.” A plan made, put into motion, before Asta’s leaning down a touch to hear the whisper. Its one that results in a low chuckle, a roll of his shoulders and nod of his head in defeat. “Fair enough.” He says on a playful sigh, leading them up toward their room so that they could at least set the bags down before he goes and sees the healer and Danta gets them some very much needed food.
And it would all go smoothly if it weren’t for the smack to his ass that has him straightening, biting down on the bark of a laugh that escapes him as he twists to peer over his shoulder to Danta, hand on the rail with the key in hand. “Dantalion,” he chides in a whisper, sharp grin on display as his tail flicks like a cat’s wiggle before it pounces.
Which it does, shooting out to lightly smack his lover’s arm with the flat ashen spaded edge.
It lasts all of two seconds, because a brawl on the stairs was the last thing the butcher wants to be known by — he already had grudges against them anyway — but thankfully the next floor is theirs, and he peers at the signage to find that they’re to the right. Following the numbers until the very end of their hall, the butcher slips the key into the lock and it slats open with a loud clunk, like it did belong to a ship. Hissing a soft laugh under his breath, he swings the door open to let Danta in first.
“That sounds perfect, darling.” A plan made, put into motion, before Asta’s leaning down a touch to hear the whisper. Its one that results in a low chuckle, a roll of his shoulders and nod of his head in defeat. “Fair enough.” He says on a playful sigh, leading them up toward their room so that they could at least set the bags down before he goes and sees the healer and Danta gets them some very much needed food.
And it would all go smoothly if it weren’t for the smack to his ass that has him straightening, biting down on the bark of a laugh that escapes him as he twists to peer over his shoulder to Danta, hand on the rail with the key in hand. “Dantalion,” he chides in a whisper, sharp grin on display as his tail flicks like a cat’s wiggle before it pounces.
Which it does, shooting out to lightly smack his lover’s arm with the flat ashen spaded edge.
It lasts all of two seconds, because a brawl on the stairs was the last thing the butcher wants to be known by — he already had grudges against them anyway — but thankfully the next floor is theirs, and he peers at the signage to find that they’re to the right. Following the numbers until the very end of their hall, the butcher slips the key into the lock and it slats open with a loud clunk, like it did belong to a ship. Hissing a soft laugh under his breath, he swings the door open to let Danta in first.
Astaroth
// please just look me in my rotting smile and tell me i'm the only one you think of //
