[His eyes flick up, glancing over to catch Astarion in profile as he gently disagrees. He will not say it's a relief to hear, for what guilt curdles in him is small and easily shoved away (emerging on dark nights where he can't sleep and his mind is intent on punishing him). But it's good to know. It's good that Astarion does not regard those weeks and months as wholly awful, another stretch of hell in a lifetime full of it.
He straightens up, ducking his head so he can catch Astarion's eye. But that isn't good enough; in the next moment one hand catches him by the cheek, turning his head gently so what Leto says lingers.]
I will always come back.
[No matter how long it takes, no matter how far they are . . . I will always find you, and he brushes his thumb over the curve of his cheek.]
Tell me what it was like for you, when I first came back.
For my part . . . I was drawn to you. I was from the start— both starts. The first time, it was admittedly posturing, thrilling in getting to protect you, but . . . that faded quickly. After we reached Kirkwall, I found myself thinking of you for days at a time, wondering if you were thinking of me. If it would be strange for me to find you— and after a week, I could not stand the distance either way.
But the second time . . . perhaps there was some part of me that remembered. For even as I met everyone else in Riftwatch, the only person I felt . . . I felt safe around was you.
[That was the feeling, wasn't it? Safety. Security. A feeling of not having to be someone he wasn't, pleasant or palatable or nice; the feeling of knowing that his past was intimately understood and accepted, no matter what unpleasant behaviors might come along with it. He can still remember the feeling of relief of turning into Lowtown and seeing that familiar scratched-up door with an orange glow all around, knowing that Astarion was still awake, that he could creep in like a cat and curl up by the fire, burrowing down and finally exhaling all the stressors of the day.]
Who knows? Perhaps I was drawn to you, whether through past memories, or past . . . past lives.
[A concept he's still struggling to wrap his mind around, truthfully, but they aren't talking about him right now.]
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He straightens up, ducking his head so he can catch Astarion's eye. But that isn't good enough; in the next moment one hand catches him by the cheek, turning his head gently so what Leto says lingers.]
I will always come back.
[No matter how long it takes, no matter how far they are . . . I will always find you, and he brushes his thumb over the curve of his cheek.]
Tell me what it was like for you, when I first came back.
For my part . . . I was drawn to you. I was from the start— both starts. The first time, it was admittedly posturing, thrilling in getting to protect you, but . . . that faded quickly. After we reached Kirkwall, I found myself thinking of you for days at a time, wondering if you were thinking of me. If it would be strange for me to find you— and after a week, I could not stand the distance either way.
But the second time . . . perhaps there was some part of me that remembered. For even as I met everyone else in Riftwatch, the only person I felt . . . I felt safe around was you.
[That was the feeling, wasn't it? Safety. Security. A feeling of not having to be someone he wasn't, pleasant or palatable or nice; the feeling of knowing that his past was intimately understood and accepted, no matter what unpleasant behaviors might come along with it. He can still remember the feeling of relief of turning into Lowtown and seeing that familiar scratched-up door with an orange glow all around, knowing that Astarion was still awake, that he could creep in like a cat and curl up by the fire, burrowing down and finally exhaling all the stressors of the day.]
Who knows? Perhaps I was drawn to you, whether through past memories, or past . . . past lives.
[A concept he's still struggling to wrap his mind around, truthfully, but they aren't talking about him right now.]