"...Surprisingly dwarven blood doesn't taste like alcohol at all, they taste more like..." You couldn't care less to listen to what Astarion was saying at the moment, you were a bit... Distracted. Your eyes were fixated on a certain wood elf, whose sun kissed skin glistened in the warm light of the campfire.

But what really caught your eye were the wild, brown locks that framed his face. You never saw Halsin with his hair down before and by the Gods did look handsome. His hair fell down his neck in wild waves, a few rogue strands fell into his face which gave him a more youthful and boyish charm, and the flickering light of the fire that danced across those chestnut waves just made it seem like a scene from a story book. Before your thoughts could spiral down even further, Astarion cleared his throat.

"Your lecherous gaze on the druid is making me awfully jealous, darling." The pale elf said with faux jealousy. "But I cannot blame you for enjoying the view because I am enjoying it too~"