Something feels off. Astarion had expected the familiar bite of your tone. Or maybe even the furrow of your brow whenever you made some sort of witty remark towards him. There's none. Just at sight of him, your face only twisted into exhausted annoyance and pushed right past him. As if he didn't exist.

His belly churns. You've never ignored him like this before. Granted, the two of you never were on good terms. But it only managed to bother him a great deal. Your sudden avoidance felt absolutely lonesome.

"What's the matter with you?" he can't help but follow after you. He grasps onto your wrist with a squeeze, forcing you to look at him. He didn't like the way you made him feel.

The way you made his thoughts jumble with all sorts of theories. Were you sick of him? Bored of him, as if he was some sort of toy to be discarded?