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
Her eyes glitter with mischief the butcher feeds off of – her agreement like music to his ears and the second that the deal is said and set, the butcher’s grin brightens so impossibly wide that it seems like it would hurt with the bruising on his face. He lets a warm laugh breathe out of him, soaking in the little ego boost of a trick more often hidden up his sleeve than it is acknowledged and revealed.
But then he’s telling her about how he’s intending on asking Danta to marry him – having not thought of too many details apart from the fact he’s sure once he has the ring in hand, it’ll be a waiting game of trying to determine when would be the best time to ask. Flora, however, sinks back into the hot tub, still pressed against his side but vibrant and stunning in her excitement, the kind that’s reflective despite Asta looking like he’s gone through hell.
The bruising has gotten better the longer they’re in there, though, and he turns partially toward her so he can peer down at her. “I am happy too.” He admits, even if he’d had that panic earlier thinking Danta was craving space. It’s a contradiction, obviously, but with the clarification that sunk down into his bones, he’s hoping not to make that mistake again.
Provided he stops getting himself into trouble, that is.
“And thank you, darling, for this. I am feeling much better.” The dark splotches have lightened quite a bit, and for the most part aside from his face, he looks like he’s nearly put back together.
But then he’s telling her about how he’s intending on asking Danta to marry him – having not thought of too many details apart from the fact he’s sure once he has the ring in hand, it’ll be a waiting game of trying to determine when would be the best time to ask. Flora, however, sinks back into the hot tub, still pressed against his side but vibrant and stunning in her excitement, the kind that’s reflective despite Asta looking like he’s gone through hell.
The bruising has gotten better the longer they’re in there, though, and he turns partially toward her so he can peer down at her. “I am happy too.” He admits, even if he’d had that panic earlier thinking Danta was craving space. It’s a contradiction, obviously, but with the clarification that sunk down into his bones, he’s hoping not to make that mistake again.
Provided he stops getting himself into trouble, that is.
“And thank you, darling, for this. I am feeling much better.” The dark splotches have lightened quite a bit, and for the most part aside from his face, he looks like he’s nearly put back together.
Astaroth
run, baby, run, run for your life
