[ A bleary look at the cards on the table, and the ones in his hand. Iorveth does the math, and he tosses his own one-pair for Astarion's scrutiny with unearned smugness. ]
When they're played right, [ he says, as if he didn't eke out a win by virtue of his pair being slightly higher in number. Serious card-players would be embarrassed by this, but Iorveth has a bottle and a bit of wine in his tired system, so he doesn't care. ] And for my victory, you'll let me brush your hair at some point.
[ An even more embarrassing declaration, uninhibited by his usual steadfast stoicism, encouraged by drink. Definitely not the slam dunk his drunk mind thinks it is, to admit that he just really likes Astarion's hair. ]
no subject
When they're played right, [ he says, as if he didn't eke out a win by virtue of his pair being slightly higher in number. Serious card-players would be embarrassed by this, but Iorveth has a bottle and a bit of wine in his tired system, so he doesn't care. ] And for my victory, you'll let me brush your hair at some point.
[ An even more embarrassing declaration, uninhibited by his usual steadfast stoicism, encouraged by drink. Definitely not the slam dunk his drunk mind thinks it is, to admit that he just really likes Astarion's hair. ]