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"A little. And his tasted better," Astarion doesn't mind adding. The stuff the Admiral provides is...fine...but he's never going to turn down a drink from the source.
"In an emergency, I can provide blood as well. I'm not sure if I told you that."
"You have. I appreciate it."
Though in reality, he can't imagine how such an emergency would manifest itself. He knows he can go months upon months without feeding.
"Good."
He's quite for a moment.
"So... it became something more than utility?" He spreads his hands. "I'm not assuming what but... something?"
"Fuck, okay," he mutters after a second, in which he realizes he's going to have to decide what to do with his legs. It's easy to drape his arms up over his head again; it takes an absurd act of will, under the circumstances, to spread his legs the way he does want to do. It'll mean he has less leverage to squirm from his core, and it feels deliciously, unbearably exposed. He closes his eyes and focuses on bringing his breathing back to something that can halfway fake calm.
"...I'd never fed from a human before," he says quietly. "Not that he's strictly human, but - you know what I mean. He was my first, and I kept going back. It was easy. I wasn't in love with him or anything so asinine, but I suppose I became...attached."
"Good."
Astarion ties his wrists first, tight enough to hold him in place but not enough to pinch. One hand runs slowly from his hip, down his thigh, over his knee and calf, before tying one ankle and then the other into place.
"You look so good like this," he purrs. "Legs spread for me. Hurting just like I want."
"And he took that away from you." A short pause. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you. So am I."
He turns his head, finally actually looking at John.
"...I'm not...used to it, you know? In my experience, something goes on forever or it slips through your fingers the moment it's caught. This is...being here is....different."
"I'm not surprised. The shift in timescale is... difficult." It's why he's tried not to push too often. He slips, no doubt, but he tries.
"Is this the first time something major has... hit?"
Is it?
Mm. The breaches haven't been easy, but they weren't real, insofar as anything here feels real. John is gone now. Will Astarion remember him in five years? Ten? A hundred?
"Yes. I suppose so."
"Do you know why it made you wreck your room?" A hand up. "Which is not scolding. I don't care. We can fix it. I'm just trying to help you figure out the feelings."
"I don't know," he says, sounding - irritated, but aimlessly so, not at John. "I was - frustrated. It was done before I gave much thought to the why."
"You were frustrated and the need to express that was more important than the need to keep your room the way you like it." He tilts his head. "But not enough to upset or inconvenience anyone else."
He points to the cat dish and water.
"It wasn't mindless. You still cared more about Ayelin's comfort than your frustration."
"I don't know. Maybe? I wasn't making calculations in the moment," he says, sounding mildly aggrieved. "...and I cleaned up Aylin's things afterwards."
"Then maybe you just wanted it to be private?"
"Certainly more than I wanted to be seen destroying someone else's things and be accused of throwing a tantrum," he allows.
"Because you didn't want to get in trouble or you didn't want anyone to judge you?" Beat. "If you know. It's okay if you don't."
"Trouble." He scoffs. "Neither. I just didn't want anyone to see it, or ask, or - it's nobody's business."
"Including me?"
Matter-of-fact. And not assuming anything. Just putting the question there.
"Also fine if the answer is 'yes'."
"I actually don't care whether or not you approve of my answers, but - yes, including you."
He sighs. More of a huff, honestly.
"That being said, I've accepted that you will poke my nose into my affairs regardless."
He sighs himself.
"I don't like doing it either. But I don't really see an alternative. Do you see one?" He will let the 'we never talk and you just eventually disappear after languishing here for years' obvious addendum be obvious but silent.
Astarion considers this.
"...I can't say I really understand what you're trying to accomplish by these conversations. I assume it's 'wardening', but that's rather vague."
"What do you think wardening is? What do you think I'm supposed to do?"
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