all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach
"Necessary unless you want all of your hard work to have been for nothing," Danta says with a challenging raise of his brows, glad to see that Asta is soon on board with their quick detour into the freezers. "Ah, now Halovian whiskey I can arrange." Grinning and able to feel the shiver that racks through his fiance, he rests a hand atop one of Asta's forearms and promptly leads them back out to the bar area.
"Come on, we'll have one now and take one for the road," he decides, and whether the butcher decides to remain attached to him or not, Danta makes his way behind the bar and reaches up (and up) for their top shelf whiskey, grabbing a couple of shot glasses to go along with it.
Pouring them each a measure with the sort of finesse that only comes with a lot of practice, Danta raises his shot in a toast. "To a warm Deepfrost and better behaved prisoners," he declares, chiming his glass against Asta's and shooting it back in a smooth motion. The whiskey flares and burns immediately at the back of his throat, drawing a line of fire down into his sternum where it spreads and smoulders deliciously.
"Gods, Halo really does know their whiskey," he mutters with an appreciative hiss of breath. "Do you ever miss it? The region, not the liquor." He realises he's never really asked in that way; they've delved into memories plenty of times (and occasionally literally) but he's never thought about Asta wanting to return there.
"Come on, we'll have one now and take one for the road," he decides, and whether the butcher decides to remain attached to him or not, Danta makes his way behind the bar and reaches up (and up) for their top shelf whiskey, grabbing a couple of shot glasses to go along with it.
Pouring them each a measure with the sort of finesse that only comes with a lot of practice, Danta raises his shot in a toast. "To a warm Deepfrost and better behaved prisoners," he declares, chiming his glass against Asta's and shooting it back in a smooth motion. The whiskey flares and burns immediately at the back of his throat, drawing a line of fire down into his sternum where it spreads and smoulders deliciously.
"Gods, Halo really does know their whiskey," he mutters with an appreciative hiss of breath. "Do you ever miss it? The region, not the liquor." He realises he's never really asked in that way; they've delved into memories plenty of times (and occasionally literally) but he's never thought about Asta wanting to return there.
Dantalion
don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash
Horns: Diamond - they look very similar to #2 in this image.
