[ Ah. As much as Iorveth has told himself to be calm and understanding, that last bit elicits the kind of involuntary flinch that he'll look back on later and be embarrassed by; the sort of little twitch that says you've hurt me.
Because it does. Hurt, he means. It hurts because Iorveth loves Astarion so completely, and he would forgive him in a second if Astarion said that he wanted him. Everything else is just noise, something he can work around. But, again, Iorveth loves Astarion, and the thought that he was wearing himself thin the past tenday, that he hated what Iorveth put him through, makes Iorveth feel tight-chested.
He swings his legs off of the bed, and gets up. ]
Astarion. I love you.
[ Simply. An immovable, unshakeable truth. Iorveth's expression pulls into a frown, then relaxes, tired and open. ]
no subject
Because it does. Hurt, he means. It hurts because Iorveth loves Astarion so completely, and he would forgive him in a second if Astarion said that he wanted him. Everything else is just noise, something he can work around. But, again, Iorveth loves Astarion, and the thought that he was wearing himself thin the past tenday, that he hated what Iorveth put him through, makes Iorveth feel tight-chested.
He swings his legs off of the bed, and gets up. ]
Astarion. I love you.
[ Simply. An immovable, unshakeable truth. Iorveth's expression pulls into a frown, then relaxes, tired and open. ]
But if you're suffering me, say so.