[ Astarion doesn't know if anyone has ever issued him an apology. If it happened before death, he can't remember, blotted out by time and cruelty. Though Gale doesn't say I'm sorry in so many words, it's still enough, for now.
There are words on his own lips that evaporate as Gale closes: I am a fool for you. Astarion has heard so many breathless confessions in his life, but they were all drunk, meaningless. Issued to a facade, a charlatan who only existed to fulfill whatever their fantasies of him might be. He still doesn't know what to do with Gale wanting him as he is, when Astarion doesn't even know the shape of himself beneath the shimmering cloak of deceit he's worn for so long.
He looks at Gale a moment, lip trembling, and then pulls him into a tight embrace; holds him fiercely and desperately, his face buried in Gale's shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. Astarion is quiet for a long moment, before he finds his voice again, muffled into Gale's robes. ]
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There are words on his own lips that evaporate as Gale closes: I am a fool for you. Astarion has heard so many breathless confessions in his life, but they were all drunk, meaningless. Issued to a facade, a charlatan who only existed to fulfill whatever their fantasies of him might be. He still doesn't know what to do with Gale wanting him as he is, when Astarion doesn't even know the shape of himself beneath the shimmering cloak of deceit he's worn for so long.
He looks at Gale a moment, lip trembling, and then pulls him into a tight embrace; holds him fiercely and desperately, his face buried in Gale's shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. Astarion is quiet for a long moment, before he finds his voice again, muffled into Gale's robes. ]
We'll find another way. Any other way.