in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue
Asta does see him, and it's what has Danta shying away sometimes without meaning to. Being seen, being known, had always been used very much to someone else's advantage in the past, and though he knows deep in his heart of hearts that Asta would never be that way with him, old habits die screaming for the Maverick. Still, he's more comfortable with the butcher than he can ever remember being, content to sit in the twilight of candle flame and lanterns from the world outside with little more than their soft breath for company.
Smiling at the lips that brush across his temple, as Asta finally does breath the silence, Danta is quick to let his quiet laughter join in. "I still have cigarettes in my bag from Torchline," he offers, nodding towards the wide window. "Want to sit a while?" He doesn't quite trust himself on his feet yet - not without help getting up, at least - but the offer is a sincere one. "The only caveat is that we leave the lights low. I want to see the ships in the harbour."
Smiling at the lips that brush across his temple, as Asta finally does breath the silence, Danta is quick to let his quiet laughter join in. "I still have cigarettes in my bag from Torchline," he offers, nodding towards the wide window. "Want to sit a while?" He doesn't quite trust himself on his feet yet - not without help getting up, at least - but the offer is a sincere one. "The only caveat is that we leave the lights low. I want to see the ships in the harbour."
Dantalion
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
