eat your heart out

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

Danta doesn't realise how long he's been walking on autopilot until Asta takes over, and he relaxes slowly into the other man's arms as they head back towards Haulani. "Being around people wouldn't be a bad thing," he admits, a smile flickering across his lips in response to the kiss the Butcher sneaks to his cheek. One of his arms has looped around Asta's shoulders in the meantime, fingers teasing through the dark hair behind his ear and against the back of his neck.

"You're my favourite nightmare," he adds, and though it's intended as a joke, occasionally it's all too real between them. (It doesn't make him any less his favourite, though). "I think I want... you know where they throw lobster tails and shrimp and potatoes and stuff on the table? That sounds good." A seafood boil is what he means, and luckily it's a messy enough affair on its own that they might overlook the state of him.

"Is that okay...?"

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

// and rise with me forever across the silent sand //

There were times where the Butcher’s bloodlust had not been sated the way he needed it to be and the last thing he needed to be was to be around other people. There were other times, too, where he required the quiet socialness. Quiet in the fact that he wouldn’t engage, but being around people seemed to bolster and help. It was a tactic often used back in the Climb, long before he’d had the opportunity to live so freely as he and Danta do. So when the Maverick decides that he wants to be around people, Asta’s more than willing to make whatever kind of scene he has to in order for the other Ancient to get everything he needs.

“I would hope so. I do not think my ego could handle it if I weren’t.” He teases, the smile clear in his tone and the soft huff of a laugh that leaves him. And at least for the time being, there’s no Haunt to come out and surprise the Maverick. Blessedly empty of everything except the green flame and the bloodbane, it’s only the memories that harbor the haunting dread and terror these days.

As Danta describes what kind of dinner he’d like, the Butcher knows precisely the type he’s thinking of. And while it was messy, it was also carnal in a way that they worked best. And it was vacation, so if there was a time for the Butcher to let go of his typical preferences when it came to dining, this is exactly when he’d be more inclined to do so – not even counting the fact that it sounds like it’s something Danta needs. Hearing the is that okay? has his steps slowing for a second, his dark gaze dropping to Danta with a curious gleam in his gaze that seems like he’s trying to rack his brain for a time he wouldn’t have conceded to the other Ancient’s whims. “Of course it is okay, darling. I know just the place.” He murmurs, head dropping slightly to nuzzle Danta’s temple. His steps pick up again, heading toward the heart of Haulani toward a particular restaurant in mind.

Haulani itself is still bustling with activity despite the cold and Asta can see the people milling around the closer they get. "So shall we order lobster.. Sausages.. Shrimp..? I wonder if they have any clound manta or echo shark." He trails off a variety of options, breaking the quiet.

Astaroth

// and the stars will be your eyes and the wind will be my hands //

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

"Lucky for you then, hm?" Danta says with a small smile; he's in no fit state to be teasing or testing the other man's ego as it is, and the less he thinks about the reality of Asta in his nightmares right now, the better. Feeling the Butcher's gaze on him has him glancing up, sensing his steps slow as well, and for a second the Maverick seems to shrink under the look, only for his lover to confirm their plans and continue into Haulani. "Sorry," he mumbles, tucking himself back against the side of Asta's neck. "It's been a weird sort of day. I don't feel like myself."

Hence the people, Danta hoping the normality of a crowd will remind him where he is and, more precisely, where he isn't, the Maverick huffing a laugh despite himself to feel the nuzzle to his temple. "Echo shark would be good if they have it," he agrees, shivering a little at the sudden breeze that cuts across the late afternoon. "Otherwise all that sounds great. Oh, and crab legs."

He doesn't know where Asta is leading them exactly, but when he does eventually need to set him down, Danta will be happy to walk if not more glued to his fiance's side than usual.

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

// and rise with me forever across the silent sand //

Quietly grateful for the way Danta reburies his face into his neck, because it means that he won’t see the twitch of a frown on the corner of his lips to hear the apology leave his fiance’s lips. “No need to be sorry, Wasp.” Comes the soft rumble, encouraging and hopeful that Danta might realize more so now than ever if there was something Danta wanted to do, Asta would be his right hand. Even if it were something that he typically despised.

It just goes to show how much he loves him, he imagines. “Ah, yes, certainly the crab legs.” It wouldn’t be a seafood boil without it, honestly. And while they walk, he’s already imagining the scents and the mess of it, bolstering his expectation enough that when they reach the main drag of Haulani, he continues to happily carry the Maverick until they reach the doors of the seafood boil restaurant. Setting him down and wrapping an arm around him protectively, Asta steps up to claim their seat within.

There’s looks – at Danta, mostly, but with a dark glance from the Butcher to each respective one (full of silent promises of violence should they not allow the Maverick to dine in with them). It works well enough, because they manage a seat deep within by the balcony area, nearest to a flickering flame of a wall sconce and a perfect view of the grey sunset over thrashing Deepfrost waves. “See? Easy, darling.” He purrs, choosing to sit beside Danta rather than across from him, as if he too can’t stand the idea of being too far from him. The interior is lively and vibrant with crowds of people within, the sound of merriment and the low thrum of music intertwines in a cacophony of life in a way that was different than the Dusklight at its bare bones, but similar enough to prove to Danta he wouldn't find himself trapped alone and in the dark, especially not with the possessive arm that still sits around his waist.

When the waiter comes, it’s quick and with all the trinkets they’ll need for the seafood boil – a platter of utensils and warm citrus scented rags. And with an almost too bright smile of greeting, she tells them both that if they need more of the cleaning rags, she can get them in a jiffy.

Astaroth

// and the stars will be your eyes and the wind will be my hands //

storm's comin', I can see the clouds

Danta is used to all sorts of looks, including the ones levelled at him now, but he's more interested in the warmth of his fiance's side and the arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders as they slip into the restaurant. Keeping his gaze on the glittering line of the ocean against the sunset outside, he follows Asta like nothing else in the world matters, and when they arrive at their table it's with a sigh of relief that the Maverick drops into his seat.

He shouldn't be surprised that the Butcher settles directly beside him, but the smile on his lips is still quietly charmed, and he scoots himself a little closer to lean into the cradle of his arm as the waiter, their utensils and the warm, damp cloths arrive. "You made it easy," he corrects, smiling up at the other man. "Did you want to order wine for the table?"

Glancing then towards the rags, Danta reaches to pick one up and wipe off his bloody hands. "I suppose we should take advantage of being able to get extra to make me more presentable, too."

Dantalion

No runnin's gonna save you now

// and rise with me forever across the silent sand //

As Danta scoots in, Asta’s arm grows more possessive around his waist and his tail curls easily around his fiance’s leg beneath the table. “Is that not what I am good at?” He asks with a sharp smile. It isn’t, not entirely. He actually has a tendency of overcomplicating things, but for the sake of the joke the Butcher can’t stop himself from letting his ego flex with the reaction of those in the restaurant. “Wine sounds lovely. Would you prefer a red or a white?” He asks, having typically ordered red in the past but given that he’s switching it up for whatever Danta wants best, if he wants white wine or even a rose, Asta will gladly order it.

Whatever it is they decide, the waitress returns to check in on them where Asta orders the wine and does ask for extra rags, she nods and steps away to retrieve them all while they can focus on cleaning Danta up. By now, his hands are mostly clean and Asta’s plucking the second rag from the tray and lets his warm hand lift to tilt his fiance’s head toward him. His dark gaze is bright and full of warmth and quiet adoration as he presses the rag to the corner of his lips and his cheeks, cleaning up any smudges of dirt and dried blood. “I will have you know that you are presentable to me in any state.” He purrs softly, low just for the Maverick’s ears. "Even when you are a lava wyrm puddle."

Astaroth

// and the stars will be your eyes and the wind will be my hands //