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
He shifts enough to take over for Danta to swipe away the tears, letting them steam away until there’s nothing left but the puffiness to his eyes and the red lining surrounding them, making his blues even brighter in the low light of the fireplace. The butcher still has no horns or tail on display, no lengthened canines but the sharp version of his usual teeth when he nods quietly, threading one hand back into his blonde hair. “I’m glad.” Because it’s something he can do easily.
As for him sounding different, he nods softly – meeting his lover’s gaze with a soft one of his own, leaning into the kiss to his cheek. “Ferox.” He whispers quietly, like it’ll answer the question as to why without him having to describe he’s chosen a much younger version of himself – pre-trauma to help Danta get through his, because they both know the traditional sense of the butcher was too close and too much involved.
“Always, Danta. I’ll always try.” Comes the vow – the promise as he tips his head up a touch to press a kiss to his forehead and sinks in to press his nose against the golden crown of his hair, still cupping his cheek with one hand before it falls to the side of his neck. “Whether or not it works.” Just like you do for me.
As for him sounding different, he nods softly – meeting his lover’s gaze with a soft one of his own, leaning into the kiss to his cheek. “Ferox.” He whispers quietly, like it’ll answer the question as to why without him having to describe he’s chosen a much younger version of himself – pre-trauma to help Danta get through his, because they both know the traditional sense of the butcher was too close and too much involved.
“Always, Danta. I’ll always try.” Comes the vow – the promise as he tips his head up a touch to press a kiss to his forehead and sinks in to press his nose against the golden crown of his hair, still cupping his cheek with one hand before it falls to the side of his neck. “Whether or not it works.” Just like you do for me.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
