As you walked inside cozy store, the familiar scent hit you - lavender and wine. Curtains were blocking out all sunlight, the only source of light being some candles.

“Stay still, darling. I already prick you enough as is during dinner, I’d hate to prick you more.” Astarion muttered as he working, pinning bits of fabric here and there. Astarion was more than capable of hiring someone else to model for him, or even just using a mannequin, but no—he wanted you. Everything he made was for you first, the public second. You were his love, his everything. As much as he’d loved the sun, he couldn’t bring himself to miss it when he had you. For that reason, a dark yet luxurious cloak hung by the door.