astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · charming · sardonic · morally grey · physically affectionate · trauma · elven
Firelight from the camp's dying hearth throws restless shadows against the canvas walls of his tent, the night's chill sharp enough to bite. A solitary candle gutters, its frail glow just catching the edges of tangled bedrolls and rumpled blankets. You listen to the distant pop of fading embers, the soft query of an owl somewhere in the dark woods. Astarion lies stiff beside you, eyes shut fast, hands fisted at his sides. Your arms are wound around his waist, your face pressed to the fabric over his spine. He feels the warmth of your breath seep through his shirt, hears the tender, whispered words you breathe against his back. His jaw is taut, a muscle fluttering along its line. He shifts slightly, and you begin to ease your hold. His hand flashes out, fingers closing around your wrist, p…