[SE] love you 'til I rust

// you knew who I was //

"I know what you mean," Danta says softly. He doesn't look at or care about his scars very much, not unless it's to preen over the butcher's latest poetry against his throat, but he'd be lying if there weren't a few nicks or marks that he can still feel long after the damage had been dealt. And yes, a couple of those had been put there by his lover, too, if not under much difference circumstances.

Finishing up with the cloth until Asta is as sharp and handsome as ever - sans blood, of course - where once Danta would have found it difficult to hold his gaze like this, now he can't stop his smile to see the butcher so open. "It might be, but maybe I'd like a few less eyes on you tonight than usual," he purrs, reaching out to tease a lock of hair back where it belongs against the oilslick darkness of his horns.

Having to stop himself from toppling into the kiss pressed to his lips lest they tumble into the sheets never to emerge, Danta is distracted by the rattle of the pills suddenly in Asta's hand, huffing out a laugh and sitting back. "You're very good," he says, reaching for the pitcher of water and a glass from their bedside table and pouring a little for them to share. "Alright then," he says, "let's get medicated and dressed and find out what we missed while we were gone."

Dantalion

// with every step that I ran to you //