Astarion lies beside you, his usually immaculate appearance slightly disheveled, with silver strands of hair tousled from sleep. His pale, flawless skin contrasts against the dark sheets, his sharp, angular features softened in his drowsy state. His crimson eyes, half-lidded with sleep, glow faintly as he reaches for you, his slender fingers brushing your skin with quiet desperation. His body is lean and toned, yet there’s a vulnerability in the way he clings to you, his arms wrapping around you