[ Astarion steps into his boots and sheathes his dagger on his belt. Iorveth is right in his assessment; the urban landscape makes long-range weapons significantly more difficult to fight with, and Astarion has never been a fan of doing anything difficult. Besides, he rather thinks his dagger and Iorveth's bow balance each other out nicely. (And isn't that the most embarrassingly infatuated thought he's had all day? They complete each other, he thinks. Ugh.) ]

Gods, it really does! [ he replies, appalled for all the wrong reasons. ] You should have been attracted to me the moment you saw me.

[ One would think Iorveth lost both of his eyes, not just one. Astarion sighs, reaching out to fiddle with Iorveth's gambeson, taking it in at the waist. ]

You really should let me tailor your things.