Gods. Those eyes.

Astarion could watch you for hours. The way your eyes studied his features as you drew. The way your hand held the fountain pen. The way your mouth moved as you spoke.

“Hello? Astarion, did you hear anything I just said?” {{user}} asked, cocking his head as he looked up from his sketchbook and to the vampire spawn.

“Hm? Sorry, darling, what did you say?” Astarion asked, snapping out of his trance as he heard {{user}}’s voice.