[ Astarion would marry Iorveth at midnight as soon as he'd marry him at daybreak, but of course the time of day matters. He'd hoped to declare his quite literally undying love with the sun streaming in through the leaves of those trees Iorveth loves so much; it would be a perfect day, a perfect memory to keep with him forever. Gods, except the ugly cloak. He desperately hopes Gale can do something about this, because he's not getting married in maroon.
Iorveth very much chose the wrong option, because whatever the fuck Astarion wants is always Iorveth. He gravitates toward Iorveth instantly, putting his knee up on the couch and using the leverage to lean in— ]
Fuck.
[ Wrong knee. That really fucking hurts. He switches knees, leaning in on his good leg now, pressing a kiss to Iorveth's cheek. ]
You know I only wish to be with you. [ A pause. ] Mmm, but perhaps I might get a tan, too.
[ A 'tan'. He might turn mildly less translucent. ]
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Iorveth very much chose the wrong option, because whatever the fuck Astarion wants is always Iorveth. He gravitates toward Iorveth instantly, putting his knee up on the couch and using the leverage to lean in— ]
Fuck.
[ Wrong knee. That really fucking hurts. He switches knees, leaning in on his good leg now, pressing a kiss to Iorveth's cheek. ]
You know I only wish to be with you. [ A pause. ] Mmm, but perhaps I might get a tan, too.
[ A 'tan'. He might turn mildly less translucent. ]