run, baby, run, run for your life
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
i'ma tear out your heart, it'll always be mine
“Ooh, yes. We should.” He agrees – already planning that perhaps after Danta’s birthday hunt that they might return here rather than their room. And perhaps by then, a new doll in the window will look quite a bit like the Theocrat. It’s a thought that bolsters him as they get settled into the bed, a tangle of limbs and tails until they’ve found a space to rest.
The warmth of Danta’s face pressed in against his neck and jaw, under his arm as he holds him close and rests his cheek against his lover’s crown as the question escapes him. Hearing the answer, though, and the slight shift that he can tell is Danta peering at him, the butcher’s gaze slits open slightly and he looks back at him with a softer glint to his gaze. “Do you think it will get better?” He asks quietly, another probing question before his tail curls around Danta’s leg as if to prove to him he’s with him for the answer regardless of what it might be. “I am sorry that it has so many bad recollections.” He apologizes, tucking his chin a little to better look at Danta, his hand rising to stroke along his sharp cheek with a calloused thumb.
The warmth of Danta’s face pressed in against his neck and jaw, under his arm as he holds him close and rests his cheek against his lover’s crown as the question escapes him. Hearing the answer, though, and the slight shift that he can tell is Danta peering at him, the butcher’s gaze slits open slightly and he looks back at him with a softer glint to his gaze. “Do you think it will get better?” He asks quietly, another probing question before his tail curls around Danta’s leg as if to prove to him he’s with him for the answer regardless of what it might be. “I am sorry that it has so many bad recollections.” He apologizes, tucking his chin a little to better look at Danta, his hand rising to stroke along his sharp cheek with a calloused thumb.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
