// he's nice, polite, he'll catch you by surprise //
“Oh, of course not, darling. The cake would have been the celebration after.” He purrs, mischief flooding his tone briefly even if the hypothetical air is just as playful as it had been, latching onto the relief of it as opposed to the trauma of before. So, he takes a few bites here and there in the interim, working on his own tart and his cocoa until he can almost feel the sugar lining his entire soul.
Glancing out across the bakery at those that do their best to give them little attention right now (perhaps it’s the general aura of menace that the butcher puts forth extra hard this season), the butcher’s dark gaze sweeps back toward his lover with a snort and a nod that has his dark hair sweeping over his shoulder with the movement. “I would say somewhere in there that fate had our futures in mind when they made you stumble across me.” Perhaps now he can wax his poetics about their endeavors.
But silence overcomes them as they clean up the plates and drain their mugs of cocoa, leaning in closer to Danta in the process. The sun has fully set, blanketing the outside in darkness and a quiet promise of a cooler temperature. “Mm, I am ready to go home, love.” He decides, certainly socialed out given the season, but quite proud of how well he’s done all things considered.
But before they pay and stand, the butcher turns back toward his fiancé and tugs him in against him to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to his lips – both to ease any lingering shadows for his fiancé and to prove to any onlookers that he’s very much his. It’s with a flash of the diamond on his ring that matches Danta’s horn that the butcher places the payment down on the table, snags his cane and settles it back in the crook of his arm, picks up the candied oranges to take home and makes sure he’s got everything else sequestered away for them to head home before the sugar high really takes its toll.
Glancing out across the bakery at those that do their best to give them little attention right now (perhaps it’s the general aura of menace that the butcher puts forth extra hard this season), the butcher’s dark gaze sweeps back toward his lover with a snort and a nod that has his dark hair sweeping over his shoulder with the movement. “I would say somewhere in there that fate had our futures in mind when they made you stumble across me.” Perhaps now he can wax his poetics about their endeavors.
But silence overcomes them as they clean up the plates and drain their mugs of cocoa, leaning in closer to Danta in the process. The sun has fully set, blanketing the outside in darkness and a quiet promise of a cooler temperature. “Mm, I am ready to go home, love.” He decides, certainly socialed out given the season, but quite proud of how well he’s done all things considered.
But before they pay and stand, the butcher turns back toward his fiancé and tugs him in against him to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to his lips – both to ease any lingering shadows for his fiancé and to prove to any onlookers that he’s very much his. It’s with a flash of the diamond on his ring that matches Danta’s horn that the butcher places the payment down on the table, snags his cane and settles it back in the crook of his arm, picks up the candied oranges to take home and makes sure he’s got everything else sequestered away for them to head home before the sugar high really takes its toll.
Astaroth
// a smile so bright, you'd never bat an eye //
