[ Astarion probably shouldn't - and wouldn't, under normal circumstances - be wandering around bare-assed in the winter, but Gale's pants are just big enough that Astarion didn't feel like tripping on them en route to his study. Makes the sneaking thing a hair more difficult. And he doesn't mind the potential to throw Gale off-guard with his assets, anyway.
He watches the fire flare in the hearth, warmth prickling up the nape of his neck in response. ]
What gift might that be? [ Astarion flops back onto the sofa behind him, lying on his side and resting his cheek on a lightly curled fist as he watches Gale. Hopefully not an immediate missive to go to the Underdark; he's still too attuned to Cazador's endless orders to expect an actual gift. ]
no subject
He watches the fire flare in the hearth, warmth prickling up the nape of his neck in response. ]
What gift might that be? [ Astarion flops back onto the sofa behind him, lying on his side and resting his cheek on a lightly curled fist as he watches Gale. Hopefully not an immediate missive to go to the Underdark; he's still too attuned to Cazador's endless orders to expect an actual gift. ]