no subject

[ an immediate, traitorous thought that he should be so lucky — to beg for astarion’s attention until his tongue ached and knees gave out. that if there were anyone worthy of holy service in the manor, in the world, it would be this celestial creature, with his sunlit eyes and moonspun curls.

the correct answer: please don’t take this the wrong way, but i shouldn’t ask you for anything. and you shouldn’t come to the church any longer, or i’ll kiss you in front of the stained glass and, paradoxically, beg for the pleasure of being made to beg, by you. nothing personal! ]

What an honour.
I’ll strive to be deserving of it.