[ Iorveth smooths his thumb over the back of Astarion's hand, gently tracing the rise and fall of his knuckles. There seem to be a lot of things that are still left unresolved and need unpacking, but at least there's some assurance that they'll have time together to address it. A bit at a time, maybe.

He pauses, when Astarion asks him the question. It was unkind, obviously; he rarely feels guilt over the things he says, given that he usually says exactly what he means, but what he said before was, admittedly, a jab just for the sake of jabbing.

His grip tightens momentarily, before loosening in increments. ]

I doubt you would keep me by your side if what I said was true.

[ Iorveth would like to think that Astarion thinks more of him than just being a yes-man, mostly because he thinks he's not terribly great at being one. (Case in point.) ]

You could find prettier, kinder men to beg for you. But you're here with me.

[ Stepping just a half-step closer, almost closer enough to lean in and touch foreheads. ] ...Forgive me. I spoke carelessly again.