[ 'Not be unhappy'. That double-negative isn't the hallmark of excitement, but Iorveth seems determined not to stop him from indulging in all that life has to offer, so Astarion doesn't argue. He lets his fingers play with the strands of hair at the nape of Iorveth's neck for a moment, surveying the street.
A young woman in an ornate Fey Day costume rushing down the street, heels clicking against the cobblestone, clearly late for a party. Two halflings leaning against the brick wall of one of the establishments, calling out to revelers that they recognize as they gnaw on kebabs from a nearby street vendor. A couple, arguing about the woman's former beau being present at the party they just left. ]
Who shall I taste, then?
[ His free hand presses to Iorveth's chest, and he adds, sincerely, ] Or would you prefer not to watch?
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A young woman in an ornate Fey Day costume rushing down the street, heels clicking against the cobblestone, clearly late for a party. Two halflings leaning against the brick wall of one of the establishments, calling out to revelers that they recognize as they gnaw on kebabs from a nearby street vendor. A couple, arguing about the woman's former beau being present at the party they just left. ]
Who shall I taste, then?
[ His free hand presses to Iorveth's chest, and he adds, sincerely, ] Or would you prefer not to watch?