[ Horrifically, Astarion actually giggles like a besotted schoolboy under the barrage of Iorveth's affection. Iorveth makes him feel— light. Unburdened. Like he really is young again, untouched and untainted. Like he's perfect the way he is. ]

I am particularly wonderful, [ he agrees. ] As are you. Hence why we make the perfect match.

[ There's only one thing he'd ever change about Iorveth, and it's that awful mortality. At least Iorveth isn't a human, or gods forbid, a halfling or gnome. He'd be beside himself if he thought he only had, what, fifty or sixty years before Iorveth's demise. No, he's lucky, really. Iorveth's elvenhood has never meant much to Astarion, but he's grateful for it. It gives him time. ]

...Besides, the whole 'turning you into a vampire' idea is really more of a plan B. I'd hate to bury you six feet under, darling, even for a day. And not only because you know I hate digging.

[ Although that's definitely part of it. Astarion's own death was one of the most traumatizing experiences of his existence. Forcing Iorveth to go through the same would be harrowing.

He'd do it, if he had to. But there are plenty of options to explore. ]