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,
Chuckling warmly, the butcher flashes his lover a bright grin. “My favorite part is when they realize their mistake two seconds before I fully get into it.” He drawls, letting the thought flicker from him just as soon as it had come – even if Danta’s still quite focused on the idea of it. Their food arrives, and with it the little quiet lesson on which fork is for which portion of their meal.
And he knows that Danta could care less, but he’d promised to tell him the difference. And so when he settles in, his lips quirk into a smirk of amusement even if the lines at the corners of his eyes are a little deeper from his seasonal exhaustion. “You may eat, darling.” He hums, reaching forward to take the salad fork from the Maverick and to pluck his own from the table, stealthily slipping them up his sleeves to be snuck into his pocket later. “Technically no, regarding the salad forks. We do not get to keep them. They are nice, though.” He drawls like he didn’t just steal the two forks as he plucks up the table fork to delve into his meal a touch eagerly.
And he knows that Danta could care less, but he’d promised to tell him the difference. And so when he settles in, his lips quirk into a smirk of amusement even if the lines at the corners of his eyes are a little deeper from his seasonal exhaustion. “You may eat, darling.” He hums, reaching forward to take the salad fork from the Maverick and to pluck his own from the table, stealthily slipping them up his sleeves to be snuck into his pocket later. “Technically no, regarding the salad forks. We do not get to keep them. They are nice, though.” He drawls like he didn’t just steal the two forks as he plucks up the table fork to delve into his meal a touch eagerly.
Astaroth
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
