[ For the duration of Astarionโs silence, Gale returns to his (unpaid) work. Shelving here, tweaking a display there. The first picture stops him in his tracks, looking down in initial confusion, then blushing understanding. He clips himself on the corner of their potionsโ table upon recognising the trousers Astarion had almost certainly been wearing when he left, instead splayed on their bed. Unable to keep himself from thinking of โ well โ every inch of pale skin Astarion has allowed him to regard and touch, of late.
And itโs cute, besides, which is surely not a word many would apply to a centuries-old vampire. Gale can think of no other descriptor for the effort. The silly little poses arranged for their amusement alone.
By the time he straightens all the bottles, the final photo has pinged his phone. ]
Wow ๐ณ It would be terribly useless of me to say theyโd all suit you, wouldnโt it? And yet it would be true.
The first and the last stand out, though Iโm afraid Iโll be tempted to swiftly undress you, in either case.
no subject
And itโs cute, besides, which is surely not a word many would apply to a centuries-old vampire. Gale can think of no other descriptor for the effort. The silly little poses arranged for their amusement alone.
By the time he straightens all the bottles, the final photo has pinged his phone. ]
Wow ๐ณ
It would be terribly useless of me to say theyโd all suit you, wouldnโt it?
And yet it would be true.
The first and the last stand out, though Iโm afraid Iโll be tempted to swiftly undress you, in either case.