[ It's becoming a real problem, how good it feels to be close to Astarion. Iorveth has never fancied himself either touch-starved or touch-repulsed, choosing mostly to opt out for the sake of doing what's expected of him (being an upright champion against oppression)― and yet, here he is, feeding off of the sensation of being pulled close by someone who'd actually obliged Iorveth's plea to stay.
Very dangerous. The smart, practical part of Iorveth tells himself to love Astarion a little less, for both of their sakes; the snarling animal who also lives within Iorveth bares its teeth at that rational voice.
Oh well. The fight between Iorveth's inner voices can wait. ]
The things I endure for you, [ he sighs, very much unconvincingly. No one actually strongarmed him to be here, and no one made him suggest further plans. He knows he's the clown here. Iorveth has never claimed to be a good person. ] Let's go, then, before we're found again.
[ A reminder to himself not to get distracted by rogue desires to kiss Astarion (also again), even if they really are set up correctly for it. Hands held, waist held, dead body on the floor. Very romantic. Instead of pressing their mouths together, he murmurs the Aen Seidhe word for "beloved", en'ca minne, then tugs Astarion towards the open door, bag of stolen goods and all. They'll have to re-padlock the door, go back to up the first floor, and find a suitable window to climb out of. Not very glamorous at all. ]
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Very dangerous. The smart, practical part of Iorveth tells himself to love Astarion a little less, for both of their sakes; the snarling animal who also lives within Iorveth bares its teeth at that rational voice.
Oh well. The fight between Iorveth's inner voices can wait. ]
The things I endure for you, [ he sighs, very much unconvincingly. No one actually strongarmed him to be here, and no one made him suggest further plans. He knows he's the clown here. Iorveth has never claimed to be a good person. ] Let's go, then, before we're found again.
[ A reminder to himself not to get distracted by rogue desires to kiss Astarion (also again), even if they really are set up correctly for it. Hands held, waist held, dead body on the floor. Very romantic. Instead of pressing their mouths together, he murmurs the Aen Seidhe word for "beloved", en'ca minne, then tugs Astarion towards the open door, bag of stolen goods and all. They'll have to re-padlock the door, go back to up the first floor, and find a suitable window to climb out of. Not very glamorous at all. ]