[ Astarion blinks, taken aback. He's so used to Iorveth's affection now that it feels foreign and strange and deeply unpleasant to earn his ire. He sputters a little, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. I didn't say that is on the tip of his tongue, but he very much did say it, even though it sounds quite a bit worse when Iorveth repeats it.

He has no choice but to embrace what he's said, so he crosses his arms again, scowling. ]

Oh, I know. I'm so very awful.

[ Well, he is. Iorveth should have known as much. He's horrible and selfish, and he wants to be something Iorveth cares to lose rather than something he can just dispassionately cut loose. ]

After all, I certainly haven't made any sacrifices. I had so much fun leaving civilization and trudging, starving, through the woods until I got tied up in some awful man's dirty basement.