sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth

in space the stars are no nearer; just glitters, like a morgue

"Damn right you are," Danta croons, allowing a small smile to curl across his lips as he feeds Asta the last bite of cake. His reaction is everything the Maverick has expected and more, his laughter joining the butcher's as he sets the fork aside and raises his eyebrows. "I might have gone slightly overboard with it when the head baker showed me how to soak the cake in brandy," he admits, though it doesn't seem as if Asta minds one bit.

Relaxing into the idle stroke of the other man's fingers, when his eyes open at last, Danta almost melts against the warmth in them. "I'm sure I can have that arranged," he says, smoothing a hand across the collar of Asta's shirt, getting rid of a non-existent crease. "Is it wrong that I'm quite looking forward to Deepfrost this year?" he says, lowering his voice a bit. "Not that it hasn't been delightful to see you like this, but I can see how much it's stressing you out too."

Dantalion