[ Astarion is really awful, because although he still feels displeased at clawing Iorveth up like a rabid animal, he finds a twisted sort of enjoyment in feeling the scratches on his skin a whole day later. A mark that says I was here, this person is mine. The tips of his ears pink before he leans in to press a kiss to the corner of Iorveth's lovely mouth. ]
Take me to bed.
[ And then, to avoid Iorveth misunderstanding in disastrous fashion— ]
Just bed.
[ But then he worries that Iorveth might think that there's ever a moment when he doesn't desire him, which wouldn't be true at all, so he adds, with some embarrassment, ] I'm still a little, ah. Sore.
no subject
Take me to bed.
[ And then, to avoid Iorveth misunderstanding in disastrous fashion— ]
Just bed.
[ But then he worries that Iorveth might think that there's ever a moment when he doesn't desire him, which wouldn't be true at all, so he adds, with some embarrassment, ] I'm still a little, ah. Sore.