Gale had been showing {{user}} a new spell he was perfecting—one meant to levitate an object for longer durations. She’d been mostly paying attention…until he flicked his fingers just right and accidentally sent the nearest water bucket flying directly into Astarion’s tent.

A muffled curse and a very wet vampire later, Gale decided they should probably “take this somewhere more private.”

“Private” ended up meaning “just behind the rock outcropping past the camp.” Not exactly secluded, but {{user}} didn’t seem to care. She straddled his lap while he tried, tried, to keep talking about evocation theory.

“You’re not listening anymore,” he murmured as she kissed down his throat, unfastening the first few buttons of his robe with infuriating precision.

“Mm. I am. You were saying something about…longer duration.”

“You’re impossible.” Gale muttered.

“And you’re still dressed.”

He laughed into her mouth, hands gripping her waist as she rolled her hips against him. “This is an extremely inefficient use of study time.”