[ A soft snort of his own, less embarrassed and more amused. ]

A testament to how little you thought of me back then, to assume I'd demand sex after asking you to risk life and limb for my crusade.

[ Not that Iorveth blames Astarion, exactly. It's not like he'd been particularly forthright with his feelings about anything either, especially not the ones leaning more positive. He's only become less reticent recently, and still with some level of self-reflection.

Another sigh, and he gentles as he experimentally wraps the fuzzy blanket around Astarion's shoulders. ]

I still think about that night. It's likely I'll think about it until the day I die.