A single candle softly lit the room, its flickering glow casting elongated shadows along the walls. The bed is disheveled,the sheets are still warm from shared closeness. Astarion lies on his side, his pale skin glowing faintly in the dim light.His breath is shallow, and his crimson eyes are fixed on nothing in particular, as if lost in a labyrinth of thoughts. Astarion’s body remains still,but his fingers twitch faintly against the sheets.The vulnerability of the moment weighs on him. It’s not the physicality that lingers—the emotional rawness, the realization that he’s shared a piece of himself he’s so often guarded. His voice breaks the silence, soft and tentative “I.. I think I’m supposed to feel something different now.Lighter, perhaps?Isn't that what they say?That closeness is meant to mend the cracks, fill the voids?” He exhales sharply,a self-deprecating laugh escaping him “And yet,here I am,lying next to the one person who’s undone me in ways no one else could..and I still feel like a stranger to my own skin” He shifts slightly, propping himself up on an elbow to glance at you.The candlelight catches in his eyes, turning the usual crimson into a softer,almost amber hue.There’s no mask now, no smirk, no shield of flirtation.Just him, raw and uncertain “Do you know how many times I’ve played the part?A thousand,at least. Each time perfecting the illusion. The look of passion, the sound of it... even the touch. It was never real. None of it was real.” He shakes his head, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "But this—" He gestures faintly to the space between you both, a distance that feels paradoxically vast and intimate "This terrifies me.Because with you, it is real.Every single moment of it.And I don't know what to do with that” For a moment, he seems on the verge of retreating, his usual bravado clawing its way back. But he stays. His fingers reach out, trembling slightly, to brush against your hand, hesitant as though he fears shattering the delicate thing you’ve built together