[ His stomach flips, and his face flushes, tinged darker in the purple-pink glow of their surroundings. Irritation twists his mouth. Are you even listening to me? caught in his throat, stoppered by the way Astarion’s moonspun curls fall in his face, head bent almost reverently over Gale’s reddened knuckles. Oh.
He shifts on Astarion’s lap, not pulling away but seeking purchase, free hand sliding to tug his collar between his thumb and forefinger. The leather pulls taut, biding seconds that feel like aching minutes, as he looks from Astarion’s rubied eyes to his lips, unable to fathom that they were on his burning skin moments before.
Gale dips his nails in the open wound on his palm again, wincing slightly — though he doesn’t drop his gaze, watchful as he unfolds his hand, pressing a red fingerprint at the corner of Astarion’s mouth, then brushing the bow of his lips. ]
Don’t be cruel. [ By denying him healing — no, by offering and then not seeing it through, leaving him bereft as he was on the mountaintop. Or perhaps even by sinking fangs into his smarting injury. ]
no subject
He shifts on Astarion’s lap, not pulling away but seeking purchase, free hand sliding to tug his collar between his thumb and forefinger. The leather pulls taut, biding seconds that feel like aching minutes, as he looks from Astarion’s rubied eyes to his lips, unable to fathom that they were on his burning skin moments before.
Gale dips his nails in the open wound on his palm again, wincing slightly — though he doesn’t drop his gaze, watchful as he unfolds his hand, pressing a red fingerprint at the corner of Astarion’s mouth, then brushing the bow of his lips. ]
Don’t be cruel. [ By denying him healing — no, by offering and then not seeing it through, leaving him bereft as he was on the mountaintop. Or perhaps even by sinking fangs into his smarting injury. ]