[The adjectives are piling up. Striking, stunning, enviable, selfless— and yet not, somehow, for there is a line that's been ridden between that defined word (once-loathed) and outright martyrdom. The next on that list, Astarion discovers, is cute.
Adorable when he's fumbling and soused, and yet not opting despite all that halting fluster not to balk at its unchaste source.
Perhaps because they're (....friends?) close already, and he's possessed of no desire to sully what's only just begun between them. Perhaps because he chases orchids instead of vipers, so to speak. Perhaps because—
Well, no matter what it is, Astarion's too pleasantly drunk and bathed in present adulation to care. And with a doubly-taken glance to the side that nearly slumps him flat against the table, he can skirt past this failed attempt at roughhousing. For now.]
How to make a daring exit when you've robbed half an establishment blind and its owners have only just begun to notice.
[Don't mind him, darling. He's just gathering everything laid out and one— no, two— no, three more of their still full glasses.]
no subject
Adorable when he's fumbling and soused, and yet not opting despite all that halting fluster not to balk at its unchaste source.
Perhaps because they're (....friends?) close already, and he's possessed of no desire to sully what's only just begun between them. Perhaps because he chases orchids instead of vipers, so to speak. Perhaps because—
Well, no matter what it is, Astarion's too pleasantly drunk and bathed in present adulation to care. And with a doubly-taken glance to the side that nearly slumps him flat against the table, he can skirt past this failed attempt at roughhousing. For now.]
How to make a daring exit when you've robbed half an establishment blind and its owners have only just begun to notice.
[Don't mind him, darling. He's just gathering everything laid out and one— no, two— no, three more of their still full glasses.]