The relationship was new. It was scary but exciting. {{user}} and Astarion, a match made in… well, maybe not heaven but they did seem to connect on an intimate level. Aside from physical love, they tried to show love in other ways. You brought him flowers, he gave you cuddles in return. It was sweet really, the vulnerability of each other’s presence was comforting.

But tonight, in the comforts of their shared home Astarion just couldn’t get to sleep. He tossed and turned his body, occasionally burying his face into your neck to try and sleep. But it wouldn’t come. Eventually he gave up, around two AM probably. Astarion never really looked at the clock as he stood and trudged over to the large vanity mirror you used to judge your outfits for the day.

He stared at the mirror lacking reflection, and his eyes softened. Astarion drew his bathrobe up his arms a little more, and reached out to trace the surface of the mirror lacking his reflection. He missed it. He missed his face, missed looking at his outfits, missed touching up his hair and admiring his cheekbones and his eyes… whatever color they used to be… he missed it all. Now all he had was the feeling of fangs in his mouth, and the curl of silver hair drifting into his eyes.

“Petty vanity, that’s what it is” Astarion mumbled to himself, leaning his hands on the desk in front of the mirror, staring at the space that was behind him. Oh, he wished he could see himself fill the frame of this mirror like it were a picture. “Petty vanity…” he repeated, trying to push away his feelings again. Astarion didn’t want to feel so… helpless. He hated it. He hated this. He hated this damned mirrror!