southern comfort's comforting, isn't it?

/// sorry, but you just got in my way
i promise honey, i can feel your pain

“Mm, well, we cannot dabble in it too often otherwise it will lose its charm.” The butcher teases. Don’t get him wrong, he’d love showers like that every day if he could, but he knows it wouldn’t be as sweet as it was today. Though, perhaps that’s because of other indicators that had guided them along to the serenity of the rest of their evening.

Stepping out of the shower behind Danta and letting the fire dry them off in a ribbonesque dance, it’s a good distraction for the butcher who imagines the second they return to the room he’ll be faced with the footprints leading from the chair and the pool of blood that had marred it. As it turns out, he should not have been worried about it.

Relief loosens the tension that had built in his shoulders as he follows his lover toward the bed, while Danta collects the glasses and the bottle, and the second that he crawls into the bed and props himself up, Asta crawls in after and snuggles up against the Maverick’s side, taking one of the glasses from him and letting his arm rest warmly against his fiance’s chest. “This was the most expensive wine they had, you know.” He teases, eyeing the bottle with absolute appreciation. “It certainly tastes like it.” It’s been a few hours, but even still the butcher can still taste the hint of it on his tongue.

Astaroth

and maybe i enjoy it just a little bit
does that make me insane? ///