[ He doesn't exactly have pleasant experiences of being pinned to the mattress, and while Iorveth's warmth draped over him is nice, he'd be lying if he said the feeling of someone's weight on top of him doesn't conjure up memories better left repressed. So much has changed, yet some parts of him still feel exactly, infuriatingly the same. Iorveth rolls off, and he feels disappointed in himself for associating anything sweet, perfect Iorveth has done with the unpleasant actions of his victims.
Astarion shifts to look at him, hand wandering of its own volition to grab Iorveth's again. ]
Perhaps the workers might talk.
[ For money, maybe, or just to watch him suffer. There are plenty of people whose secrets Astarion would have told for free. ]
no subject
Astarion shifts to look at him, hand wandering of its own volition to grab Iorveth's again. ]
Perhaps the workers might talk.
[ For money, maybe, or just to watch him suffer. There are plenty of people whose secrets Astarion would have told for free. ]