[ Astarion opens his mouth to protest that he didn't accuse Iorveth of not caring, necessarily, just— not caring about that one specific thing, which did feel a lot like not caring in general. And then Iorveth had turned his back on him, and it really had felt, just for a moment, like he didn't care at all. He closes it, though, because there's nothing he's interested in less right now than arguing with Iorveth while he's naked and sprawled out across soft sheets. ]

I guess there were some benefits to the little wrigglers.

[ Standing in the sun. Entering homes uninvited. Reading each other's thoughts. He'd been so terribly afraid of Iorveth seeing any hint of vulnerability in him when they'd first connected; now he's seen Astarion at his absolute lowest. ]

I do miss being inside your mind.

[ It had been a pleasant place to be. Somewhere that wasn't his own mind, his own body.

He laughs under his breath, amused before he even says, ] I suppose I'll just have to be inside of you other ways from now on.