corporeity: (Default)
๐‘”๐‘Ž๐‘™๐‘’ ๐‘‘๐‘’๐‘˜๐‘Ž๐‘Ÿ๐‘–๐‘œ๐‘  ([personal profile] corporeity) wrote 2024-01-06 01:48 am (UTC)

Of course. [ Courting, yes. His mouth suddenly feels dry at the prospect. Theyโ€™ll have all their clothes on for future showings, at least, but he canโ€™t recall the last time someone affected him so. Proof that Astarion remains an unpredictable variable, or so he tells himself.

Astarion settles near enough that Gale feels the heat of proximity. ]


Thatโ€™s quite alright. [ an immediate assurance. ] Itโ€™s not so stark, on your skin, you know.

[ A hollow consolation. He ignores the urge to reach beside him and slip his fingers into Astarionโ€™s curls. A foolโ€™s desire. Gale does, in fact, drag his fingers over the drawing instead, tracing the lines of a stubborn word. ]

Once we now what it is, exactly, we could look into how one might heal it. [ hastily, ] If you wished for that, Astarion. Our Lady of Love and Beauty has a more traditional temple than the one weโ€™ve found ourselves in, with accomplished healers. [ a beat. ] Another consideration for the morning, perhaps. My mother insists no good decisions were ever made after midnight.

[ The reflection of the waning moon on the water suggests itโ€™s too late, for such things. ]

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