[ Astarion’s hand at his hip allows him to relax, just a touch. Gale’s desperate clasp loosens to a gentle hold, thumb arcing over his knuckles. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, exactly, only that he’s doing it — rusty as he may be in the physical plane, he’s not unfamiliar with such affection. ]
I hadn’t realised. [ That vampires and their spawn do lose their reflections, denied self-image. So much of the literature on the topic is tawdry. Few have known spawn and lived to write of it, after all. His fingers tap, tap, tap against Astarion’s hand, considering. A knot to untangle, a problem to solve. He has to stay his thoughts to keep them from running away from him, towards things Astarion hasn’t asked for. Stay here.
His chin drops, nosing dangerously close to Astarion’s hair. Just as soft as it was last night. A shade lighter, without the warmth of the fire to colour it. How much had Astarion seen, anyway? Just that moment of closeness, or the way Gale hadn’t been able to look away from his pale skin, wondering if all vampires were alluring or if it was just this particular one, teasing him so.
no subject
I hadn’t realised. [ That vampires and their spawn do lose their reflections, denied self-image. So much of the literature on the topic is tawdry. Few have known spawn and lived to write of it, after all. His fingers tap, tap, tap against Astarion’s hand, considering. A knot to untangle, a problem to solve. He has to stay his thoughts to keep them from running away from him, towards things Astarion hasn’t asked for. Stay here.
His chin drops, nosing dangerously close to Astarion’s hair. Just as soft as it was last night. A shade lighter, without the warmth of the fire to colour it. How much had Astarion seen, anyway? Just that moment of closeness, or the way Gale hadn’t been able to look away from his pale skin, wondering if all vampires were alluring or if it was just this particular one, teasing him so.
When he speaks again, his voice is a low burr. ]
Are you…as you imagined?