southern comfort's comforting, isn't it?

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

Content to be right even if the result is to feed Asta's already considerable ego (what is the best fiancé for if not that?), Danta is happily ferried along in the butcher's wake, content to take in the restaurant and the wrap around balcony. He can already smell spices and seasoning and hear the crackling of meat and fish being cooked, peering over his shoulder as they glide out to the other side of the balcony.

It means he's a little late in turning back around, caught off-guard by the perfectly secluded little table in full sun with the water glittering all around. His eyes widen, lips softly parting in an oh that never fully makes it out, the Maverick wandering closer as if he's convinced he's clearly in a dream. "You were very confident I would say yes, weren't you?" he says, smiling quietly back at Asta as he draws out his chair for him.

Sitting comfortably down, he's drawn immediately to the macabre little rose in its vase, not daring to touch it but drinking it in with open wonder. "You have outdone yourself," he says, his tone carrying both love and a hint of warning. "Keep this up and I'm not sure you'll be able to handle all of my gratitude."

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash