They say I'm a dangerous man, better run fast as you can
“Mmhm.” Asta says, completely doing his best to bypass the sweet comment if only to focus on everything else they had going on, the way his hackles still remain raised enough that the butcher pastes the smile on his face even if his calculating gaze says everything else. His hand twitches when Danta untangles his arm from being linked with his and exhales a quiet bit of relief when his arm slips around his waist and he leans into him. “I will be good.” He hums, a quiet vow that he’s currently spending all of his willpower enacting.
He tilts his head into Danta’s affections, slipping his arm around Danta’s shoulders gently in turn, continuing to let his black honey gaze peer out at the surrounding area and the people simply living their lives. He knows it, logistically, but it keeps that dangerous glint in the smile that sticks on his face. And gods does it pinpoint on the deckhand that waves at them. His tail flicks sharply, but he takes a long, slow deep breath to measure himself as he untangles himself reluctantly from his lover. “Oh? Doing research now, are we?” He asks with a hint of amusement, letting his gaze linger on the way the light falls against the Maverick’s sharp cheekbones.
So he exhales softly, resigning himself to the task at hand if only to get some insight on why he’s felt so off, though something tells him it won’t matter knowing or not.
He tilts his head into Danta’s affections, slipping his arm around Danta’s shoulders gently in turn, continuing to let his black honey gaze peer out at the surrounding area and the people simply living their lives. He knows it, logistically, but it keeps that dangerous glint in the smile that sticks on his face. And gods does it pinpoint on the deckhand that waves at them. His tail flicks sharply, but he takes a long, slow deep breath to measure himself as he untangles himself reluctantly from his lover. “Oh? Doing research now, are we?” He asks with a hint of amusement, letting his gaze linger on the way the light falls against the Maverick’s sharp cheekbones.
So he exhales softly, resigning himself to the task at hand if only to get some insight on why he’s felt so off, though something tells him it won’t matter knowing or not.
Astaroth
Don't you look back, every bone in my body's bad
