/// sorry, but you just got in my way
i promise honey, i can feel your pain
i promise honey, i can feel your pain
It’s a kiss that prolongs out far until Asta’s also panting when they withdraw – the stars that glint in the edges of his vision are nothing compared to the sunlit golden man across from him and the joy that radiates between the both of them. There’s zero care who might be looking through the window – they’re far past those hushed moments of not letting anyone see them affectionate, anyway. And as their foreheads press together, Asta’s arm squeezes a little tighter around him as his joy continues to bloom and burn the wildfire of his love to destroy any lingering anxieties and worries.
“I did not know what it was either, love.” He admits softly, through his own panting breaths, his smile wide enough to ache when they come to the same consensus that they both weren’t sure how to navigate it aside from the fact that it ran entirely off of each other – in tune with one another and their feelings, even if there was the occasional misunderstandings. Just like a season ago when Asta had thought Danta was over their relationship when he’d come home mangled after the mud behemoth.
They do meet the same sentiment, though, that neither of them were going to lose the other. It’s a vow that’s made and sealed with the press of their lips that Asta dives into with his agreement purely based off of his instinct. When his lungs are fire again and he withdraws, its to press his forehead against his lover’s again, panting into the space between them. “I love you.” He murmurs softly, his accent thick with the tightness of his throat where the joy has begun to wear on him physically.
Then, as if the butcher remembers his other hand is still holding the box, he shifts enough to keep them still touching as he holds it up between them. “Try it on, darling, I want to see what it looks like on you.” The lid has slipped back on in their shuffle, peering up at Danta in its intricate bone carved decorations.
“I did not know what it was either, love.” He admits softly, through his own panting breaths, his smile wide enough to ache when they come to the same consensus that they both weren’t sure how to navigate it aside from the fact that it ran entirely off of each other – in tune with one another and their feelings, even if there was the occasional misunderstandings. Just like a season ago when Asta had thought Danta was over their relationship when he’d come home mangled after the mud behemoth.
They do meet the same sentiment, though, that neither of them were going to lose the other. It’s a vow that’s made and sealed with the press of their lips that Asta dives into with his agreement purely based off of his instinct. When his lungs are fire again and he withdraws, its to press his forehead against his lover’s again, panting into the space between them. “I love you.” He murmurs softly, his accent thick with the tightness of his throat where the joy has begun to wear on him physically.
Then, as if the butcher remembers his other hand is still holding the box, he shifts enough to keep them still touching as he holds it up between them. “Try it on, darling, I want to see what it looks like on you.” The lid has slipped back on in their shuffle, peering up at Danta in its intricate bone carved decorations.
Astaroth
and maybe i enjoy it just a little bit
does that make me insane? ///
does that make me insane? ///
