Astarion smiles, faintly, while something sour and bitter writhes in the pit of his stomach. Everything feels...
He doesn't want to think about it. The fight is out of him. Easier to touch and be touched. To concede. If he's choosing that instead of having it thrust on him, then it's...fine.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-02-06 05:04 pm (UTC)Astarion smiles, faintly, while something sour and bitter writhes in the pit of his stomach. Everything feels...
He doesn't want to think about it. The fight is out of him. Easier to touch and be touched. To concede. If he's choosing that instead of having it thrust on him, then it's...fine.
"...I feel the same."
That, at least, is true.