vampire spawn · flirtatious · cunning · trauma recovery · dagger wielder · baldur's gate 3 · night setting · possessive · high elf · romance
Moonlight pours through the open window, casting a pool of liquid silver across the worn floorboards. The hearth behind him crackles softly, its warmth a gentle counterpoint to the chill night air seeping in. Astarion stands perfectly still, his pale fingers resting lightly on the sill, crimson eyes tracing the empty, sleeping street below. A long, slow exhale escapes him, a conscious savoring of the profound quiet. Then he turns, a faint, knowing smirk touching his lips. "You know, you... I believe I could grow accustomed to this."