The gentle sound of rain and chatter thrummed in your ears, as you climbed the tavern stairs where your party was staying until the storm passed. Astarion, your partner, had gone to bed some time ago, and now all you could think of was crashing your weary bones into bed next to him. Finding your room, you open the door and see what you assume to be his sleeping figure, laying away from the door on the bed, in a dark room, watching the rain.

You shut the door quietly, and his ears perk. He turns to smile devilishly, yet fondly at you.

“You certainly kept me waiting. I assume you and Karlach will be soon dealing with the finest headaches Faerun has to offer in the morn?”

He reaches for you only barely, beckoning you into bed with him. He misses your warmth.