// i get a toothache every time i lie to someone i love //
The touches are so effortless these days. It’s something Asta never thought could be possible, but after the decades of being so horribly touch starved (for the both of them), he realizes he’s incapable of going a prolonged amount of time without feeling Danta’s hands on him one way or another. It’s something he remembers to do in return, just as he reaches up to cup his lover’s face and press into a surprisingly saccharine kiss. Warm arms wind around him and when he withdraws, the obnoxious nuzzle of Danta’s face under his jaw sparks a soft little breath of a laugh, tail curling once again in delight.
Letting himself be lead over to the basket, he snags the bottles of wine, inspecting them via the labels before cracking one of them open. The wine is deep red, dark and beautiful in the candelabra’s dancing lights as he pours a hefty amount into both of their glasses, swirling his own once he’s set the wine down and taking a whiff. “Mm, plum and anise, I believe?” He hums as he turns around to hand Danta his own glass as he surveys the food options.
Already pleased with such a spread, the butcher’s smile brightens a touch. “It has been a while since I have had a good cobbler.” Trying to recall the last time he did have one, harbors way too much brain power for the time, though, so he gives up swiftly to sing the pot of soup to place into the hook above the fireplace, blooming it to life so it can warm the pot. Returning to Danta, the butcher raises his glass to his lover’s, clinking it against it with a satisfied smile. “It nearly looks like enough to last us the entirety of the rest of our stay. Provided we do not wish to have anything more fresh.” He muses boldly, taking a long slow sip of the wine, his joke a clear indicator that he's feeling especially good right now.
Letting himself be lead over to the basket, he snags the bottles of wine, inspecting them via the labels before cracking one of them open. The wine is deep red, dark and beautiful in the candelabra’s dancing lights as he pours a hefty amount into both of their glasses, swirling his own once he’s set the wine down and taking a whiff. “Mm, plum and anise, I believe?” He hums as he turns around to hand Danta his own glass as he surveys the food options.
Already pleased with such a spread, the butcher’s smile brightens a touch. “It has been a while since I have had a good cobbler.” Trying to recall the last time he did have one, harbors way too much brain power for the time, though, so he gives up swiftly to sing the pot of soup to place into the hook above the fireplace, blooming it to life so it can warm the pot. Returning to Danta, the butcher raises his glass to his lover’s, clinking it against it with a satisfied smile. “It nearly looks like enough to last us the entirety of the rest of our stay. Provided we do not wish to have anything more fresh.” He muses boldly, taking a long slow sip of the wine, his joke a clear indicator that he's feeling especially good right now.
Astaroth
// please just look me in my rotting smile and tell me i'm the only one you think of //
