seven sins, don't let them in

all you have is your fire, and the place you need to reach

"What can I say? I'm not so practiced at prim and proper, not like you are. Takes me a little longer to put everything in its right place." Danta's voice drips with amusement, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his pants, though he makes no move to take them off just yet, caught by the butcher's gaze and the pink in his cheeks. "Besides, I'm not sure you're as annoyed about it as you're making out,", he adds.

Rolling his shoulders to draw up his glamour, Danta nevertheless turns at last to shimmy out of his pants, glancing over his shoulder as he steps free of them. "There," he chimes. "All in time for this year's birthday." Straightening up, of course he takes the extra few seconds to fold the garment and set it on the chair with his shirt, hands lifting to feather back through his fair hair, left unadorned for today thankfully enough.

"Much better," he purrs, prowling forward so he might finally join Asta in their den. The furs are plush and warm against his bare skin, but that's nothing to the heat radiating from the butcher, and Danta seeks it out immediately with a greedy touch that cares little for propriety now.

Dantalion

don't you ever tame your demons, but always keep 'em on a leash