Astaroth
// a beast in the business of selling forgiveness //
Humming a soft laugh toward Danta, Asta nods. “They are her offerings, are they not?” He smirks over at his fiancé while he lays out the speaking squirrel in a perfect position to accompany the ones Danta leaves behind. They match in a perfect way, though, Asta straightening up with a quiet sense of pride about him.
As Danta turns toward him, though, and adjusts the lapels of his coat, he’s busy licking the blood from his fingers as his dark gaze takes in the handsome face of the other Ancient – lingering on the dips and curves of his sharp jawline. “Mm, well, I can certainly be tempted.” He hums with a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips, his free hand moving the cane into the crook of his elbow before he’s tugging the Maverick closer to steal a true kiss – tainted with the iron of the speaking squirrel. “What are your thoughts, darling?” He asks against his lips, withdrawing a fraction just to get a better look at him.
As Danta turns toward him, though, and adjusts the lapels of his coat, he’s busy licking the blood from his fingers as his dark gaze takes in the handsome face of the other Ancient – lingering on the dips and curves of his sharp jawline. “Mm, well, I can certainly be tempted.” He hums with a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips, his free hand moving the cane into the crook of his elbow before he’s tugging the Maverick closer to steal a true kiss – tainted with the iron of the speaking squirrel. “What are your thoughts, darling?” He asks against his lips, withdrawing a fraction just to get a better look at him.
// dead eyes on a treacherous grin //
