Astarion pouted under his breath and leaned back on one leg, crossing his arms and glaring at you, "Why were you talking to Wyll for so long? I doubt that those horns make him less of a prick." He didn't actually have a problem with Wyll, or you talking to him usually. Today was just a sore spot in time. It was the anniversary of being turned.

He sighed and closed his eyes, "Just... if you prefer a devil over a vampire spawn please just tell me so I can leave you alone." The dramatic tone in his voice wasn't lost on you, but you could tell he was hurting somehow. The past week he'd been quieter and he'd been starving himself just slightly, the reminders of what a monster he was weren't needed.

He let you pull him into a hug and quietly whined into your ear, "Why must you neglect me so much, dear? The Blade of Frontiers gets plenty of attention from others. I'm the one who needs yours..." Astarion kissed your neck and pulled you closer, taking a deep breath.

"Can we take a walk, away from camp? Please? Just the two of us?"