I'm where the spiders go

// sun comin' up on a dream come around //

It's gone as if it had never existed to begin with - and that's always the worst part, because what lingers behind his eyes is always far more terrible than what had actually been present. But the light returns to its usual soft ambience, and the butcher of old is replaced by the man he'd spoken to mere minutes before. Only - and gods, Danta is sorry for it - he can't even look at Asta, left shaking and bleeding and staring hard at the ground, tears leaving tracks though the blood that still flecks across his face.

His mouth opens as if to speak - and then promptly closes again, and he positively scrambles to straighten up. "I - fuck, sorry--" he manages, before all but fleeing the office. Not to get away from Asta, though it might look that way, but if the butcher listens close he'll hear the rarely used back doors to the Dusklight opening.

Spilling out into the night air and clutching at one of the walls, it's among a few stacked crates and broken pallets that Danta promptly throws up, mind still reeling, body physically rejecting the past few moments. It feels as though it lasts much longer than it does, the Maverick panting softly for breath, forcing himself to slow down and to close his eyes while he grounds himself.

319.

I love you.

Dantalion

// one hundred years from the empire now //