sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth

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

"It depends. If the cake is full of brandy, perhaps he'll be too tipsy to complain moving forward," Danta reasons with a grin and a casual shrug of his shoulder; the staff at the Dusklight do put up with quite a lot of chaos to their credit, so regardless of the reaction, he feels as though the baker is resilient enough to handle it.

Privately glad that Asta is distracted by the cake when his apology hits the air, Danta nevertheless allows a small smile to himself at his response - and at the kiss pressed to the palm of his hand. "Ah, maybe," he agrees, scoffing at the memory. "You did quite like it out there in the Feverlands, didn't you? Maybe we can take a trek in a few days, see what other delights there are."

For now, though, there's apparently a fight club worth considering - and even better than that besides; Danta's response is snatched away by the bite of citrus in Asta's kiss, and no matter how gentle he might be, the Maverick can taste the truth that crackles beneath the sweetness. "I bet I could find another use for that blindfold," he purrs against his lips. "Though I've got a feeling I'll end up being the one wearing it."

Dantalion