[ Ridiculous, Astarion calls him, while saying something utterly ridiculous. Iorveth leans forward when Astarion pulls back, unconsciously chasing his mouth even at the expense of his pride; "love-drunk", he'd called himself. It's still apt.
A breath, in and out. Water slips between them as Iorveth floats backwards for a better look at that slight twitch in Astarion's expression. ]
Stomach what?
[ Tracing that kiss-bitten lower lip with his thumb this time, admiring the little flash of fang. ]
no subject
A breath, in and out. Water slips between them as Iorveth floats backwards for a better look at that slight twitch in Astarion's expression. ]
Stomach what?
[ Tracing that kiss-bitten lower lip with his thumb this time, admiring the little flash of fang. ]
What part of you do you think I wouldn't stomach?