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,
He’s always incredibly appreciative of the fact that they’re on the same page. Such that Asta snorts with a hint of concession when he dips his chin briefly before he’s stealing the forks to add a “That simply means that I shall hopefully have plenty of energy to burn on the first offender.” He lets his voice drop, the playful lilt while he ensures he’s snuck the forks into his sleeve to be slipped into his pants pocket later. It’s an effortless movement, like he’s done it before.
And then it’s time for him to delve into his own meal, the lamb falling from the bone with tender ease, moist and flecked with leaves of rosemary throughout. It melts on his tongue beautifully and maybe it’s his exhaustion that keeps him from hiding the hum of pleasure that escapes him at the brilliant mixture of flavors on his tongue. But as Danta nudges his plate at him, the butcher switches gears immediately (knowing perhaps better that if he doesn’t take the opportunity now that Danta would potentially eat all of it before he had a chance to).
So he takes a piece of short rib on his fork and devours it, humming a pleased note to realize it’s just as rich as his own, and while Danta busies himself with the scallops, the butcher’s piercing a piece of the roasted lamb onto his fork and handing it over to Danta to try next. “The short rib is lovely, darling.”
And then it’s time for him to delve into his own meal, the lamb falling from the bone with tender ease, moist and flecked with leaves of rosemary throughout. It melts on his tongue beautifully and maybe it’s his exhaustion that keeps him from hiding the hum of pleasure that escapes him at the brilliant mixture of flavors on his tongue. But as Danta nudges his plate at him, the butcher switches gears immediately (knowing perhaps better that if he doesn’t take the opportunity now that Danta would potentially eat all of it before he had a chance to).
So he takes a piece of short rib on his fork and devours it, humming a pleased note to realize it’s just as rich as his own, and while Danta busies himself with the scallops, the butcher’s piercing a piece of the roasted lamb onto his fork and handing it over to Danta to try next. “The short rib is lovely, darling.”
Astaroth
i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired
