[ Perhaps Astarion can take solace in the fact that, if he ever did die horrifically, Iorveth would hold onto that trauma and live with it, let it burn him every single waking moment of the rest of his days. (Astarion, please swipe left.) Because Iorveth would, and he plans to if the ever-hovering shoe above their heads drops.

Stupid, he thinks again, as Astarion asks if the nature of his existence is bothersome, as if Astarion hasn't turned Iorveth's entire world upside down by making Iorveth fall in love with him. What does he think, that Iorveth tolerates him?

Still, the reason Astarion is asking is because of the previous night's freakout, so: ]

Astarion. [ Slowly, and with purpose. "Listen carefully," is what the slight lift of his brow says. ] I love you.

[ Like hitting someone in the head with a rock. He hums, thinking of an addendum. ]

Be assured that if another being identical to you appeared right now－ [ a ridiculous hypothetical, but he presents it with dry theatricality, ] ―similar to you in every way, save for the fact that he isn't a vampire...

...I wouldn't look at him twice. Nor would I want him. [ He pinches Astarion's ear, admonishing but affectionate. ] Though I wouldn't want any other vampire, either. Need I go on?