[ Astarion has no interest in considering things tonight. That sounds like work, and he wasn't made to work. So, instead of ruminating on cloaks and portals and Athkatla, he presses his front against Iorveth's back, wrapping his arms around him and perching his chin on Iorveth's shoulder. He squeezes, a little bit of that cute aggression coming out. If he could, he'd squeeze until Iorveth popped. ]
Darling, [ he coos, sweetly.
Just as sweetly: ] Don't ever wear those hideous shoes ever again.
no subject
Darling, [ he coos, sweetly.
Just as sweetly: ] Don't ever wear those hideous shoes ever again.