[ Confluence and coexistence. Iorveth hasn't been raised on principles of jealousy, but he does find that he has a streak of (strong) possessiveness when it comes to Astarion. One that he's been trying to temper, finding it unflattering at best and monstrous at worst considering what Astarion's been through, and yet.

It's wild that Astarion is encouraging it. He's lucky, Iorveth thinks, that Iorveth would rather stab himself in his remaining eye than take undue advantage of that encouragement. But "I would allow it" has been offered, at least for now, and he can anticipate some seriously offended puffing-up if he brushed it aside like so much of Astarion's other ridiculous statements, so.

Iorveth taps into a sliver of that unhinged, freak possessiveness that he's been trying not to act on. Just a little. ]

―I want you for myself for the rest of the night, then. [ Mild, he hopes. ] Close to me, and in my arms.

[ Again, mild. (He hopes.) ]

Gale will have to peel me from you to take you to his ridiculous opera tomorrow. [ Maybe a little less mild. ] ―And by the time you have to leave, I want my scent on your collar and my blood in your mouth. [ Maybe a little unhinged. ]