[ Iorveth is so sweet sometimes that it should rightfully be cloying, especially to someone like Astarion who's always been disdainful of things like romance and 'actually liking someone'. It's entirely unlike him to find such bald-faced fondness endearing rather than pathetic, but when it's Iorveth, he can't help it. Rose-colored glasses, perhaps. Only figurative ones, of course, because he doesn't think glasses hiding his features would flatter him at all. ]
Darling, you're many things, but not cloying.
[ No one would ever accuse Iorveth of being too sweet, although he is. Astarion preens, practically batting his eyelashes. ]
Are you going to worship me, then?
[ Iorveth really should not let him get away with this sort of behavior, and yet. He's only grown more bold. ]
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Darling, you're many things, but not cloying.
[ No one would ever accuse Iorveth of being too sweet, although he is. Astarion preens, practically batting his eyelashes. ]
Are you going to worship me, then?
[ Iorveth really should not let him get away with this sort of behavior, and yet. He's only grown more bold. ]