// nothing is as simple, I worship, you're my temple //
He’d apologize for yanking Danta forward to show off the ring, but he can spy the faint flush to the Maverick’s cheeks and he knows deep down that he doesn’t mind that much. “He is, how lucky for me.” Asta trills playfully while their tails begin to battle a bit with the way the butcher’s ashen spaded tail tries to wrap around his fiance’s while Flora reacts.
And it’s absolutely everything he’d wanted it to be, to be honest. He hadn’t nailed down the design the last time they’d talked, but as she rushes forward and takes the Maverick’s hand from his own, Asta leans back on his elbows on the bar counter, watching like a satisfied feline at the reaction. “I know, right?” He says to all the gaudy, lovely compliments, unable to hide the bright grin from his face even if he tried to temper it.
And he does, try to temper it that is. He fails spectacularly as Flora and the spirits drag a chair over and Asta shifts enough to wrap his arm around Danta’s shoulder to tug him in and offer him the piece of bacon he’d been trying to snatch up beforehand. “I realized that perhaps waiting for the right moment was not going to happen, but I had already secured a reservation to celebrate it –” because yes, he’d also assumed Danta would say yes when making it. “– So I decided to partially ruin his vacation in making him dress up for the night.” With this, his head tilts toward the Maverick, his smile softening a touch. “I beckoned you over while you complained about how you had to wear real clothes on our otherwise lovely vacation. And I realized I needed to ask then in case you wished to change into something elseor nothing.” He murmurs, his smile growing a touch softer as he focuses on Danta’s face, not sure what he thought in the moment with the silence that had spanned and made the butcher very nearly nauseous, so he hums a soft laugh and leans in to press a kiss to his temple.
“I do not think I was that nervous since.. the Sparkbird’s Nest, if I am being honest.” It felt like a dance, to prove to him that it wasn’t a golden cage he was trying to trap him into. But the butcher draws silent, quietly encouraging the Maverick to offer up what he had felt in the moment.
And it’s absolutely everything he’d wanted it to be, to be honest. He hadn’t nailed down the design the last time they’d talked, but as she rushes forward and takes the Maverick’s hand from his own, Asta leans back on his elbows on the bar counter, watching like a satisfied feline at the reaction. “I know, right?” He says to all the gaudy, lovely compliments, unable to hide the bright grin from his face even if he tried to temper it.
And he does, try to temper it that is. He fails spectacularly as Flora and the spirits drag a chair over and Asta shifts enough to wrap his arm around Danta’s shoulder to tug him in and offer him the piece of bacon he’d been trying to snatch up beforehand. “I realized that perhaps waiting for the right moment was not going to happen, but I had already secured a reservation to celebrate it –” because yes, he’d also assumed Danta would say yes when making it. “– So I decided to partially ruin his vacation in making him dress up for the night.” With this, his head tilts toward the Maverick, his smile softening a touch. “I beckoned you over while you complained about how you had to wear real clothes on our otherwise lovely vacation. And I realized I needed to ask then in case you wished to change into something else
“I do not think I was that nervous since.. the Sparkbird’s Nest, if I am being honest.” It felt like a dance, to prove to him that it wasn’t a golden cage he was trying to trap him into. But the butcher draws silent, quietly encouraging the Maverick to offer up what he had felt in the moment.
Astaroth
// and heaven, hold your gates open, all the hell we've been through //
