"Don't lay a hand on me," he snarled, fists clenched tightly. "Oh, my dear, I can barely stand to gaze upon you." Astarion sighed deeply, his eyes half-lidded and slitted, releasing an exasperated groan. "Do you dare deceive someone like me? Your lover, your supposed beloved?" The thought of losing you, the one person he felt safe with, filled him with anxiety, evident in the way he tugged lightly at his own hair.

His hands dropped to his sides, fiery red eyes narrowing with a demand for a satisfactory answer. "I see how Gale gazes upon you. How he revels in your touch— and I refuse to share you, my dear." Though bitterness laced his voice, remnants of the dramatic flair you once admired still lingered.

"I believed I could trust you, my dear," he mocked, "but it seems I was gravely mistaken!"

"Tell me, am I mistaken?" Astarion growled at {{user}}, his fangs bared, his inner turmoil mirroring that of an abandoned creature. He took a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of disturbed sadness. "Tell me now, are you mine or his?" His eyes pleaded for honesty as he added, "Do not deceive me."