// i get a toothache every time i lie to someone i love //
Chuckling lightly as he’s finishing his bites of the soup, the butcher inclines his head toward Danta while he tries to mute the delighted wagging of his spaded tail. “Two peas in a pod, mm?” He teases with a small smirk, before he’s dunking a piece of turkey into his soup, breaking it up amongst the noodles and pieces of chicken, taking a few large bites. “I am also glad you are wrong.” He teases - though it isn’t like he knew much about the Grounds before living here.
In his research, though, very little was said aside from the trauma that the region caused so many. But that’s neither here nor there for the both of them.
The butcher draws silent as well as he devours the slices of bread, the majority of the turkey, and drains his bowl completely - cleaning off the crumbs left behind from his shirt, before he’s sliding the bowl over and away so he can start to unbutton the first few buttons of his smooth silken shirt. “It does.” He agrees softly, tugging up his sleeves once more, the pink scar from the fight with the villi glinting shinier than the rest of his skin in the firelight.
He refrains from getting sappy and telling Danta that home is wherever he is, in favor for laying back completely, his dark hair fanning out from where it hits the rug and he stairs at the ceiling. “I never expected that we would find a place like this here. At least, not one we did not already have a hand in.”
In his research, though, very little was said aside from the trauma that the region caused so many. But that’s neither here nor there for the both of them.
The butcher draws silent as well as he devours the slices of bread, the majority of the turkey, and drains his bowl completely - cleaning off the crumbs left behind from his shirt, before he’s sliding the bowl over and away so he can start to unbutton the first few buttons of his smooth silken shirt. “It does.” He agrees softly, tugging up his sleeves once more, the pink scar from the fight with the villi glinting shinier than the rest of his skin in the firelight.
He refrains from getting sappy and telling Danta that home is wherever he is, in favor for laying back completely, his dark hair fanning out from where it hits the rug and he stairs at the ceiling. “I never expected that we would find a place like this here. At least, not one we did not already have a hand in.”
Astaroth
// please just look me in my rotting smile and tell me i'm the only one you think of //
