[ One second, Astarion is there, and the next, Gale watches him disappear, gone away inside or somewhere else entirely. Canβt help but wonder if he overstepped, by disparaging his escort for the night.
To his relief, the moment passes. Gale chooses not to inspect the spark of pleasure he feels, at Astarion abandoning his date. Itβs a natural thing, when one has helped another see clearly. More difficult to ignore is the rush of warmth, flushing his face, as Astarion kisses his hand. He even forgets to fret over Astarionβs haphazard treatment of these precious books, too dumbstruck by the surprising tenderness. ]
And you, Astarion. [ called out to his retreating form, book clasped against his chest. ]
[ Absorbed in his thoughts, heβs halfway up the ladder before he realises the book in his hand isnβt, in fact, the priceless journal of Arkhenneld. Searching the shelves for the misplaced item yields only other, incorrectly slotted books (that Gale swiftly rearranges). Itβs only when Gale moves to collect his things and finds them equally lacking that he comprehends what happened. Fuck. ]
fin.
To his relief, the moment passes. Gale chooses not to inspect the spark of pleasure he feels, at Astarion abandoning his date. Itβs a natural thing, when one has helped another see clearly. More difficult to ignore is the rush of warmth, flushing his face, as Astarion kisses his hand. He even forgets to fret over Astarionβs haphazard treatment of these precious books, too dumbstruck by the surprising tenderness. ]
And you, Astarion. [ called out to his retreating form, book clasped against his chest. ]
[ Absorbed in his thoughts, heβs halfway up the ladder before he realises the book in his hand isnβt, in fact, the priceless journal of Arkhenneld. Searching the shelves for the misplaced item yields only other, incorrectly slotted books (that Gale swiftly rearranges). Itβs only when Gale moves to collect his things and finds them equally lacking that he comprehends what happened. Fuck. ]