flora
Asta’s voice reverberates through her like thunder softened by velvet, each syllable rattling down into the marrow of her bones and stirring something restless beneath her skin. The bass of it lingers even as the fire fades, even as the monster uncoils itself and leaves only the man in its place—though even that is up for debate now, with those horns fanning out like a cathedral made for gods with darker appetites.
She breathes in sharply, the air catching at the back of her throat before tumbling out in a stuttered exhale. Colour clings stubbornly to her cheeks, flushed high like she’s been caught in something intimate or dangerous—maybe both. And perhaps it’s only a trick of her nerves, but the shadows around her seem to curl a little closer than before, like the dark hasn’t quite let go of what it saw. Her pulse hammers. Her fingertips twitch at her sides. But still she nods, lifting her chin in defiance of whatever tremble her body hasn’t quite banished. "Yeah," she says, a breath softer than her usual drama, but steadier than she expects. "I’m okay."
She huffs a laugh, brushing a curl back from her temple with more bravado than ease. "I just—yeah, I definitely wouldn’t want to meet you in a dark alley." Her gaze catches his, something wary and wry shining in the ocean depths of it. "Especially if I didn’t know it was you under all that."
Her eyes flick down to his hand—warm, familiar, offered like an anchor—and then back up to his antlers, taking in the new shape of him, even now. "I can see why it'd be hard for anyone to say no to you when you're like that," she adds, a touch playfully despite the horrors Asta had been forced to enact upon others and the trauma it had left him with.
She breathes in sharply, the air catching at the back of her throat before tumbling out in a stuttered exhale. Colour clings stubbornly to her cheeks, flushed high like she’s been caught in something intimate or dangerous—maybe both. And perhaps it’s only a trick of her nerves, but the shadows around her seem to curl a little closer than before, like the dark hasn’t quite let go of what it saw. Her pulse hammers. Her fingertips twitch at her sides. But still she nods, lifting her chin in defiance of whatever tremble her body hasn’t quite banished. "Yeah," she says, a breath softer than her usual drama, but steadier than she expects. "I’m okay."
She huffs a laugh, brushing a curl back from her temple with more bravado than ease. "I just—yeah, I definitely wouldn’t want to meet you in a dark alley." Her gaze catches his, something wary and wry shining in the ocean depths of it. "Especially if I didn’t know it was you under all that."
Her eyes flick down to his hand—warm, familiar, offered like an anchor—and then back up to his antlers, taking in the new shape of him, even now. "I can see why it'd be hard for anyone to say no to you when you're like that," she adds, a touch playfully despite the horrors Asta had been forced to enact upon others and the trauma it had left him with.
I hope you're wetting your appetite, finding your way into someone's eyes
I hope you're dreaming in black and white, and seeing in colour
I hope you're dreaming in black and white, and seeing in colour
