[ It never really feels great to make humans feel contrite about their offenses (mostly because it's too little too late), but it still feels a lot better than seeing Astarion lower his eyes and make himself smaller. If Astarion stamped his feet and stormed off, it would have been easier for Iorveth to stay angry, but－

－well. He steps forward, insinuating his (Gale's) ugly sandals into Astarion's line of sight. ]

I don't feel indifferent, [ he concedes, after a beat. Something he's not proud of. ] But I dislike the thought of making you tiptoe around your vampirism far more.

[ He appreciates that Astarion has given thought to his feelings, but it's not like Astarion can help needing blood. It's part and parcel of who he is, what he is. ]

If you bedded them every time, though, I expect I'd feel differently. Therein lies the difference.