// day breaks sorrow //
He tries to prolong pouring the drinks for Danta to have enough time to recover - but it doesn’t stop him from glancing over now and then as he pours the glasses and steps back into his lover’s orbit - hoping that he isn’t still just as panicky as he had before. All shadows and horns in place, though, the butcher takes a smaller sip of his own while Danta downs all of his, and he hands his glass to Danta in case he wants a little bit extra.
“Dressing you in it or taking you out of it?” He asks with a playful smile, trying to pull him from the space he’d gone to with the realization that the butcher was back to his perfectly haunting self. His fingertips withdraw from the bone and gold chains, to instead smooth out with warm heat across his open back, between his shoulder blades under the draped golden chains.
He perks up with the offer, though, fingertips twitching at his lover’s back. “Oh? Perhaps we could fashion it up as a masquerade?” He murmurs thoughtfully - give people a reason to delve in without it being so formal for the debauchery that occurred at the Dusklight.
Daydreaming for a few moments, the butcher’s attention returns to the Maverick and the slate grey corset he wears, head tilting slightly as he considers it. “Would you like out of it, now?” He asks, voice tender and gentle. Nearly cautious.
“Dressing you in it or taking you out of it?” He asks with a playful smile, trying to pull him from the space he’d gone to with the realization that the butcher was back to his perfectly haunting self. His fingertips withdraw from the bone and gold chains, to instead smooth out with warm heat across his open back, between his shoulder blades under the draped golden chains.
He perks up with the offer, though, fingertips twitching at his lover’s back. “Oh? Perhaps we could fashion it up as a masquerade?” He murmurs thoughtfully - give people a reason to delve in without it being so formal for the debauchery that occurred at the Dusklight.
Daydreaming for a few moments, the butcher’s attention returns to the Maverick and the slate grey corset he wears, head tilting slightly as he considers it. “Would you like out of it, now?” He asks, voice tender and gentle. Nearly cautious.
Astaroth
// and i still feel the edge of this cold knife //
