[ He fully expects to be flicked in the face with water for noble, but settles for the way Astarion says that one word, soft, as if it's some unutterable curse. Understandable; he'd rebelled against it too, had to remind himself in the past to use a soft touch despite how little experience he'd had with it.

That said: Iorveth laughs. Probably a bit mean. ]

Adding to my ever-growing list of crimes. [ A light chuckle, as he leans into Astarion's hands, single green eye shuttering. ] "Ruining the resident vampire's rakish image."

[ The quotation marks are audible; there for dramatic flair. A bit of ribbing, before Iorveth gentles. ]

I consider myself lucky, then. To be cared for by you.