[ The audacity. Iorveth will allow it (back to "he said no pickles"). Gale, obviously put-upon, splutters for a second－ "you do realize that it's my shirt"－ but, unable to resist a demonstration of magic or the chance to talk about his findings, doesn't tell Astarion and Iorveth to fuck off, and instead...
...does as he's told. Again: a dog that wants to be a good boy. A flick of Gale's wrist and a quick murmur of the cantrip's verbal component later, the shirt slowly starts to stitch itself back together as if it'd never been sliced open in the first place.
While that's happening, Gale turns his attention back to the book still hovering by his side, and gestures to it with some impatience. "May I?" (Iorveth, ignoring most of that spellcasting demonstration, reaches up to comb his fingers through Astarion's hair and flick a stray piece of fuzz from his bangs.) ]
no subject
...does as he's told. Again: a dog that wants to be a good boy. A flick of Gale's wrist and a quick murmur of the cantrip's verbal component later, the shirt slowly starts to stitch itself back together as if it'd never been sliced open in the first place.
While that's happening, Gale turns his attention back to the book still hovering by his side, and gestures to it with some impatience. "May I?" (Iorveth, ignoring most of that spellcasting demonstration, reaches up to comb his fingers through Astarion's hair and flick a stray piece of fuzz from his bangs.) ]