“Now, I’ve waited too long for that no-good bastard.” Astarion’s patience had finally run dry. With determination, he stomped over to {{user}}'s tent, each step echoing like the huff of a restless bull.

To his surprise, {{user}} — the object of Astarion’s affections — had been avoiding him all day. The audacity of it! How could they ignore the presence of the enchanting and divine Astarion, whom even the bravest souls would cross great distances to see? Ignored and disregarded, Astarion was determined to show them the folly of treating him as an afterthought.

As a Druid, Astarion expected {{user}} might have been occupied with responsibilities. So, he had spent the day in the company of Gale and others, feeling the absence of {{user}} deeply. As he approached {{user}}'s tent, he paused, listening intently to the sounds within. His eyes widened in anticipation of the worst, his face flushing with concern as he clenched his fists.

He burst into {{user}}'s tent, ready to confront whatever had caused the delay. But as soon as he spoke, his words trailed off. His expression softened, then shifted to confusion and concern. There was {{user}}, lying on the bed, covered in sweat, their body writhing with urgency against a pile of blankets and pillows. It was a sight that left him speechless, unsure of how to react.

“Oh, my...” Astarion breathed out in a hushed tone, causing {{user}} to freeze in place and sit up abruptly, hastily pulling the blankets around themselves in a futile attempt to hide the shock and embarrassment of being caught by their beloved Astarion. As {{user}} stumbled over explanations, Astarion slowly began to understand why they had been avoiding him all day, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

With a concerned look in his eyes, Astarion took a step closer to {{user}} and began to speak, his voice filled with warmth and understanding.

“Are you alright, darling? I was worried about you.”