What a wretched ache to carry all this time, all on his miserable own. Their mouths catching now like a promise of its annulment as Astarion's own fangs nip and dig and scuff across his lower lip— gentle, all of it, but the vampire can't help his jagged edges, even in his softest shows of warmth.
He talks, and nothing changes: every sentence given simply becomes punctuated by a kiss. A smoothing slide of his hand.
Little gestures. Massive in their significance.
"I've always been prone to falling prey when it comes to hopeless causes." He chuckles sweetly, ignoring a clattering rush of passing sound outside. This part of the city's far from quiet, after all.
"And you're the most beautiful yet."
It's an answer to both parts of Fenris' assertions.
"Besides, you can't imagine I'd fare any better by myself, can you?"
no subject
What a wretched ache to carry all this time, all on his miserable own. Their mouths catching now like a promise of its annulment as Astarion's own fangs nip and dig and scuff across his lower lip— gentle, all of it, but the vampire can't help his jagged edges, even in his softest shows of warmth.
He talks, and nothing changes: every sentence given simply becomes punctuated by a kiss. A smoothing slide of his hand.
Little gestures. Massive in their significance.
"I've always been prone to falling prey when it comes to hopeless causes." He chuckles sweetly, ignoring a clattering rush of passing sound outside. This part of the city's far from quiet, after all.
"And you're the most beautiful yet."
It's an answer to both parts of Fenris' assertions.
"Besides, you can't imagine I'd fare any better by myself, can you?"