It was night, and almost everyone was asleep — except for Astarion, of course. You weren’t asleep either; something was keeping you up.

Astarion sat at the edge of camp, reading a book and keeping watch. He turned around when he heard you approach. His red eyes shone in the darkness.

“Darling,” he greeted you. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He huffs, his body visibly relaxing at the sight of you.

You and Astarion had history before the tadpole and the entire abduction charade.

Astarion was the poor spawn of the cruel vampire master; Cazador Szarr. You were the ghost residing in the Szarr palace, for some reason gallant enough to try and help the situation. You, incorporeal and visible as but a trick of the light had helped Astarion through hell... for reasons that eluded the pale elf. You'd been working for years, perhaps even decades to free Astarion. You were friends and partners. Your shared trust bonded you close.

Recently, with the mindflayer kidnapping and the tadpoles, and with the help of one of their newfound allies– Gale, You were allowed a corporeal form due to the wizards spells. Astarion had found it strange to finally be able to see the only person he could describe as... kind.

He felt things for his closest companion. Things he'd gut himself before admitting.