my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
come now, bite through these wires,
come now, bite through these wires,
There’s a soft but warm laugh that leaves him as Danta notes it – sure that regardless of what the year is or the events that would happen, that they’d handle it just as well as they had this year. A learning curve for sure, still, but one the butcher wouldn’t trade for the world. “Thank you.” He tips his lover a wink, taking another sip of the glass and sets it down to let the robust, bold warmth of it fill him.
As Danta’s gaze drifts along him, though, he preens. His chest puffs out a little and he straightens up, flashing a sharper grin over toward the Maverick as he does the same – admiring briefly the crows feathers that are tucked neatly behind soft golden waves. “You did tell me to dress nice.” He hums, before his chin lowers slightly and he peers at Danta through long dark lashes, eyes still honey and warm. “Eh, leave it at centuries and let everyone else decide if we have been around for four hundred years or nine hundred.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “The mystery is part of the fun, darling.”
As Danta’s gaze drifts along him, though, he preens. His chest puffs out a little and he straightens up, flashing a sharper grin over toward the Maverick as he does the same – admiring briefly the crows feathers that are tucked neatly behind soft golden waves. “You did tell me to dress nice.” He hums, before his chin lowers slightly and he peers at Danta through long dark lashes, eyes still honey and warm. “Eh, leave it at centuries and let everyone else decide if we have been around for four hundred years or nine hundred.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “The mystery is part of the fun, darling.”
Astaroth
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
