// he's nice, polite, he'll catch you by surprise //
Warmth floods his hand where he cups Danta’s cheek, blanketed by the other Ancient’s own hand. It’s gentle but grounding in a way that the laughter does that accompanies it. This close, the events of the moments before have all but started to fade temporarily from the forefront of the butcher’s mind, things slowly getting back into place. Danta was safe. He was protected. Perhaps not quite happy, yet, but there was always room to improve it.
“Yeah.” Asta whispers in his thicker accent, a snort leaving him as their eyes meet, nodding slightly with another little scrape to the floor with his horns. He thinks little of it, though, whatever damage he might cause to the room or his horns would be gone the second they opened the room again. It’s a challenge to get up the way that they do, but between the two of them – Danta’s determination, paired with Asta’s always surprising flexibility given his height (likely due to the willowyness of his physique), they sit up and his hands drop, smoothing down his fiance’s shoulders.
He nods at the question of the bakery, his smile turning a smidge cheshire in answer. “Certainly. This is their most profitable time of year.” He starts off before he’s leaning in for a conspirator’s whisper. “And besides, they are known for their Sweet Vampyre Gourd Tarts, are they not?” He touts proudly, despite having zero stakes in how well known the tarts are aside from being a lover of desserts in general.
Leaning in to snatch a gentle and much needed kiss from the Maverick, he withdraws so he can stand – also not parting from Danta but more than happy to manhandle him enough until they’re standing on their own two feet. He snags the cane shortly after, hooking it around the arm furthest from Danta to not spark more worries or memories, and is more than willing to take him to the bakery the second he's ready.
“Yeah.” Asta whispers in his thicker accent, a snort leaving him as their eyes meet, nodding slightly with another little scrape to the floor with his horns. He thinks little of it, though, whatever damage he might cause to the room or his horns would be gone the second they opened the room again. It’s a challenge to get up the way that they do, but between the two of them – Danta’s determination, paired with Asta’s always surprising flexibility given his height (likely due to the willowyness of his physique), they sit up and his hands drop, smoothing down his fiance’s shoulders.
He nods at the question of the bakery, his smile turning a smidge cheshire in answer. “Certainly. This is their most profitable time of year.” He starts off before he’s leaning in for a conspirator’s whisper. “And besides, they are known for their Sweet Vampyre Gourd Tarts, are they not?” He touts proudly, despite having zero stakes in how well known the tarts are aside from being a lover of desserts in general.
Leaning in to snatch a gentle and much needed kiss from the Maverick, he withdraws so he can stand – also not parting from Danta but more than happy to manhandle him enough until they’re standing on their own two feet. He snags the cane shortly after, hooking it around the arm furthest from Danta to not spark more worries or memories, and is more than willing to take him to the bakery the second he's ready.
Astaroth
// a smile so bright, you'd never bat an eye //
