// day breaks sorrow //
He’s always careful, though he doesn’t have enough time to make the bratty remark as he claims his lovers lips in a gentle and too short kiss. The smile that blooms is one that’s of pure agreement to having gone through the trouble, and as he twists them to look, hovering over Danta’s shoulder, they make the most stunning pair. “Perfectly.” He purrs, his grin sharper as he withdraws from hovering over the other Ancient’s shoulder.
He parts, reluctantly, so Danta can slip on his shoes. “You are already graceful. Just.. perhaps not so much on a ballroom floor.” In most aspects Danta was graceful in the way a feline was, moving like water when something came too close to boxing him in. And that was part of the fun of this — because while it seemed rigid and intense and boring, the butcher knows just how to make it fluid and intimate.
And he fully intends on showing Danta just how beautiful it could be.
He steps away to add on a finishing touch of his own, only to make them match that much more. A matching trinket to the one Danta wears — albeit much smaller — is quickly adorned on the tines of his horns, draping in waves that move and catch the light in a poor mimicry of the ones Danta boasts. “Ready?” He asks, turning to Danta with a vibrant smile, nestled among olive skin and black and slate grey attire with golden jewelry to match.
He parts, reluctantly, so Danta can slip on his shoes. “You are already graceful. Just.. perhaps not so much on a ballroom floor.” In most aspects Danta was graceful in the way a feline was, moving like water when something came too close to boxing him in. And that was part of the fun of this — because while it seemed rigid and intense and boring, the butcher knows just how to make it fluid and intimate.
And he fully intends on showing Danta just how beautiful it could be.
He steps away to add on a finishing touch of his own, only to make them match that much more. A matching trinket to the one Danta wears — albeit much smaller — is quickly adorned on the tines of his horns, draping in waves that move and catch the light in a poor mimicry of the ones Danta boasts. “Ready?” He asks, turning to Danta with a vibrant smile, nestled among olive skin and black and slate grey attire with golden jewelry to match.
Astaroth
// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //
