// there's a reason that they hate me, a reason that they need me //
Loosening his arms so Danta can twist within them to face him, he doesn’t hide the amusement that blooms in his face in the too sharp grin aimed for his lover. The hat isn’t missed, sailing beyond them deeper into the tent – turning a deep red from where the sun shades the inside of their tent in varying carnival-esque hues. Asta snorts, his hands dropping from where they’ve wound tightly to press against the sides of his hips. “Perhaps.” He teases in a low drawl.
The preparation of the kiss is what Asta’s expecting as well, until the air seems to be charged with something, and that something being jarring and full of unrest, and while it sends an air of surprise through Danta’s bones, Asta’s are entirely on the defense – hackles sufficiently raised.
His tail twitches against his heels with the jolt that radiates through them, straightening up to peer over Danta’s shoulder, out into the abyss of nothing as the sensation vanishes on the collapse of a raw scream. “The screaming rain has found us, perhaps?” He suggests, keeping his hand on Danta’s side while he parts only slightly to step toward the edge of their tent, not willing to let go of the Maverick yet as Asta ensures there’s nothing hiding around the waves of sand. “I do not see anything.” At least, nothing aside from a scorpion somewhat nearby, using the shade of their tent for a brief amount of respite.
The preparation of the kiss is what Asta’s expecting as well, until the air seems to be charged with something, and that something being jarring and full of unrest, and while it sends an air of surprise through Danta’s bones, Asta’s are entirely on the defense – hackles sufficiently raised.
His tail twitches against his heels with the jolt that radiates through them, straightening up to peer over Danta’s shoulder, out into the abyss of nothing as the sensation vanishes on the collapse of a raw scream. “The screaming rain has found us, perhaps?” He suggests, keeping his hand on Danta’s side while he parts only slightly to step toward the edge of their tent, not willing to let go of the Maverick yet as Asta ensures there’s nothing hiding around the waves of sand. “I do not see anything.” At least, nothing aside from a scorpion somewhat nearby, using the shade of their tent for a brief amount of respite.
Astaroth
// there's a reason to enslave me and a reason to defeat me //
