[ Unpleasant. Iorveth files that word away to be considered deeply later, and lifts their now-linked hands to press his lips against Astarion's knuckles, contrite. ]
I apologize.
[ Because he'd done it knowing that Astarion wouldn't like it, and it did neither of them any good. A particularly short-sighted strategy, especially given his own assertion before that he hated being perceived as someone who'd think Astarion to be disposable― he tells himself to think back to the mantra of being patient, of using a softer touch. They might understand each other far better now compared to pre-Henselt times, when Iorveth'd impatiently jostled his way through things, but Astarion is still an open wound in many respects.
Lowering their hands again, Iorveth nudges Astarion's shoulder with his own, tipping his head towards the bookstore. ]
―If you'd rather ruminate on Edgar and Nicholas, this is your chance to find them.
no subject
I apologize.
[ Because he'd done it knowing that Astarion wouldn't like it, and it did neither of them any good. A particularly short-sighted strategy, especially given his own assertion before that he hated being perceived as someone who'd think Astarion to be disposable― he tells himself to think back to the mantra of being patient, of using a softer touch. They might understand each other far better now compared to pre-Henselt times, when Iorveth'd impatiently jostled his way through things, but Astarion is still an open wound in many respects.
Lowering their hands again, Iorveth nudges Astarion's shoulder with his own, tipping his head towards the bookstore. ]
―If you'd rather ruminate on Edgar and Nicholas, this is your chance to find them.