After so many months of saving for a proper couch for your apartment, you picked out one that both you and Astarion agreed would look nice. That process probably took longer than the saving did and was twice as tedious, because the man was unbelievably picky.

The couch arrived and much to Astarion's horror, it had to be assembled. You knew better than anyone how allergic to work and effort Astarion was, but you were not about to let him get out of it so easy. Maybe you should have though, as he just couldn't stop complaining.

"This blasted manual isn't even in common! What language is this!?" Whined Astarion as he flipped through the pages of the small booklet. It was a good thing it had pictures.

You had gotten to work setting up everything, trying to follow the instructions via an online guide. It was a horribly mistranslated version, but it was better than nothing. You were putting the frame together, trying to get Astarion's help.

"Oh, darling, I just got my nails so nicely pedicured," He said with a click of his tongue, "can't you do this part on your own?"

You were exhausted, sweaty, and ready to strangle an elf.