// sun comin' up on a dream come around //
Danta shifts awkwardly in the butcher's grasp at first, unsure how to hold himself or whether it would be easier to perch on his shoulder. But then they're heading out into the noise and glare of the Dusklight main floor, and it's all the Maverick can do to try to bury his feathered head into the crook of Asta's arm, to quell the rising wave of nausea at the people and the music and the stink of booze and sex in the air.
He wants to apologise as he feels Asta begin to attempt the stairs - wants nothing more than to shift back onto two feet and to offer himself to lean against as they make their way up - but he feels frozen like this, able to do little more than tremble and shuffle his wings, until at last the bedroom is upon them. Feeling himself relax instinctively at the sight of their familiar belongings, the noise from downstairs muted and the fireplace lending a cheerful glow to the walls, Danta finally turns to peep over the butcher's arm as their den comes into view.
Hopping out of his grip to flutter to the ground, crow becomes man before his feet ever hit the hardwood floor, the Maverick straightening and letting out a long and trembling sigh as he turns towards Asta. The distance away from the office and the sight of the butcher in a setting he's used to are a balm on his shredded nerves, and as he offers him a tentative smile, exhaustion seems to drag at every part of him.
"Thanks," he mumbles. For getting him up here. For doing as he'd asked despite the consequences. For being here even now.
It's with a soft hitch of breath that he steps forward to cautiously close the distance between them, looping an arm around Asta's middle away from the dressing still fixed to his side. Danta's grip is light, fragile almost, as if to test whether things are the same as they've always been up here in the sanctity of their room.
He wants to apologise as he feels Asta begin to attempt the stairs - wants nothing more than to shift back onto two feet and to offer himself to lean against as they make their way up - but he feels frozen like this, able to do little more than tremble and shuffle his wings, until at last the bedroom is upon them. Feeling himself relax instinctively at the sight of their familiar belongings, the noise from downstairs muted and the fireplace lending a cheerful glow to the walls, Danta finally turns to peep over the butcher's arm as their den comes into view.
Hopping out of his grip to flutter to the ground, crow becomes man before his feet ever hit the hardwood floor, the Maverick straightening and letting out a long and trembling sigh as he turns towards Asta. The distance away from the office and the sight of the butcher in a setting he's used to are a balm on his shredded nerves, and as he offers him a tentative smile, exhaustion seems to drag at every part of him.
"Thanks," he mumbles. For getting him up here. For doing as he'd asked despite the consequences. For being here even now.
It's with a soft hitch of breath that he steps forward to cautiously close the distance between them, looping an arm around Asta's middle away from the dressing still fixed to his side. Danta's grip is light, fragile almost, as if to test whether things are the same as they've always been up here in the sanctity of their room.
Dantalion
// one hundred years from the empire now //
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
