[ Iorveth relinquishes his hold on Astarion's nose to digest the implication behind "I was only pretending", because, yes, he's aware. The only reason why Astarion would bring this up again, he figures, is for a reason that is highly embarrassing, which is that dumbfounded moment of unwanted revelation that he had that he should probably be furious at Astarion for for bringing it up.
He is a little mad about it. Mostly at himself. The way he clears his throat and contemplates death for a second is where that anger begins and ends. ]
I know. [ This first. His arms fold instinctively, posture straightening in an attempt to―
―what, brace himself against his own admission? Ugh. ] But you'd be pleased to know, I expect, that you did make my blood boil.
[ Not a jealous person by nature, but shook by the reality that he would actually be deeply unhappy about Astarion actively pursuing other people. Who would've thought. ]
no subject
He is a little mad about it. Mostly at himself. The way he clears his throat and contemplates death for a second is where that anger begins and ends. ]
I know. [ This first. His arms fold instinctively, posture straightening in an attempt to―
―what, brace himself against his own admission? Ugh. ] But you'd be pleased to know, I expect, that you did make my blood boil.
[ Not a jealous person by nature, but shook by the reality that he would actually be deeply unhappy about Astarion actively pursuing other people. Who would've thought. ]