sixfeetofdirt | TLV: IC Contact

"I won't," he says, solemnly. "And...as and when I work out what exactly I want, then the same will apply for you."

"I'll do my best, but we're in luck."

She smiles, pulling his hand over so she can kiss his wrist.

"My best is pretty damn good."

"It is."

He smiles, very aware of her warm skin against the cool absence of a pulse in his wrist.

"I - didn't thank you properly for letting me feed from you when I returned, by the way. That...must have taken a lot. Thank you. For trusting us."

Not just him, but Jacob too. She must have known that he would have taken action if Astarion got too greedy.

"I do trust you."

If any part of it was easy, it was that.

"If you need something and I can give it, I can do it, it's a done deal." Just to be clear about that.

"But I also... I'd thought for a while that I wanted to work on that. I don't want you thinking I'm afraid of you, or... anything else."

"I think you have extremely reasonable concerns about being bitten," Astarion says, rather wryly, though he sobers.

"...I don't think you're afraid of me. But I also won't take offence if I stir up some old memories just by being what I am."

"I don't want that," she insists.

"I won't give that asshole even a shadow of a place in my relationship with you." As far as Cazador goes. "And the virus has taken enough from me. It can't have you."

"And I don't want it to. I don't want any of that for you. It's more..."

He hesitates.

"I don't want my past sneaking into our lives together either. But if something should happen that makes me unexpectedly freeze up or...go somewhere else, I don't want to flagellate myself for it."

It doesn't matter whether or not he wants these things to happen. He still has to accept they will.

She'd already mentioned earlier how the two of them managed to talk about surprisingly little, perhaps, for how close they've become. Having different reasons for not wanting to talk much about themselves doesn't change the outcome, to be sure.

So he says that and she hesitates, distracted from her own point with a questioning look, inviting it now.

Ah. Fair enough. Astarion clears his throat.

"I got through a lot of my vile and interminable sex life by...absenting myself from it. Going somewhere else in my head, while my body went through the motions. The books call it 'dissociation'. It wasn't a conscious decision, more of a reflex. And it's never happened with you or Jacob, but...I can't guarantee it never will, and I don't want any of us to feel responsible if it does."

Something in her eyes softens, but she's not surprised. He'd need something, of course. Mental distance would have been all that was reliably available to him.

She ignores, for now, that he's apparently been doing some reading on psychology. Instead she shakes her head.

"There's going to be at least a little of that. You realize that, right? Caring about someone else means... doing your best not to hurt them, and when they do hurt anyway, all we can look at are the things we did or didn't do. It's just important not to let it settle there, and we're - I hope we're doing alright with that."

"I think we are. That's what I'm saying - there will be a little bit of that. Including in you, and the way you react to me. I don't want either of us to feel like we've done something wrong. That's all."

She doesn't, entirely, understand.

The part of her that is always pushing, always fighting, always sharp wants to push again but that's not who she needs to be here, with him. She searches his face, eyebrows pulled faintly together, and searches for the sweet spot where she can just... let it stand.

"So you just don't want to tell me I taste bad, huh?" is the joke she manages after a moment. "Alright, I'll drop it."

Astarion gets that she doesn't want to pursue this, and he's happy to let it go. He thinks he's made the point he wanted to make, and if she needs some time to digest it, that's fine.

"Hells, love, don't even joke," he teases back, giving her a nuzzle. "You are delicious."

What she hears is being turned down for a second time, and she doesn't understand it - doesn't understand how her method for trying to deal with her trauma reflects on his - but the salient part is being turned down.

She hums approval, the arm she's slid around him reaching up to card through his hair.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

He closes his eyes, tilts his head into her touch.

"Not for nearly as long, but I did. When I was back home, I saw you when I was meditating. I couldn't place you in my memories, but - you felt like home."

If there's a better, faster way to Rosita's heart than that, she doesn't know it. She smiles at both the words and watching the way he trusts her, turns her head to kiss his collarbone.

"I'll take that," she murmurs. "I knew that word. Damia. I could hear it in your voice. It helped when stores were low or the snow was high or I just didn't know what to do to keep going."

"I'm not sure how, or - even if I could have managed to do everything I did after Cazador was gone," Astarion says quietly. "The city was under attack by things far worse than him and I - I could have seen myself giving up. I didn't understand the voice in my head that was telling me I had more to fight for than a world which had as good as forgotten me, but...I'm glad I trusted it."

"I'm glad, too."

The smile is still there, still audible.

"You're not as good at giving up as you seem to think you are. You keep managing to do amazing things."

Astarion looks like he'd like to argue this but isn't sure of what grounds to argue it on.

"I'm not...necessarily saying I don't believe you," he says, eventually. "Maybe I've just been surrounded by doers of yet more amazing deeds, lately."

Oh well that's easy.

"Like who?" she asks, easy, still trying with the ends of his hair.

"You, for one," he points out. "But at home I was surrounded by people who were - of a different class. Literal folk heroes. God-touched warriors on holy quests. People who'd been fighting since the day they could form a fist. To say I felt surplus to requirements among such company..."

"I haven't done anything particularly special, cariño," she answers, but chews on the rest.

"But you stayed with them even after you didn't have to, right? You stayed in the fight?"

"I did. Though it wasn't entirely selfless," he points out. "I wanted the parasite out of my brain just as much as the others did, despite the - fringe benefits."

"You could have let the heroes do it."

She rubs her thumb along his knuckles.

"I think it's harder when you don't think you're suited to it. When you aren't expected to do it."

"Perhaps. Though it seems likewise rather difficult when you are expected to do it." He thinks of Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart. "Dragging about the weight of your deeds and others' expectations looks quite exhausting."

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