"Come on, don't be shy."

Astarion sat you down in his tent, closing the tent curtain so that no one would see him treating your wounds. He reached out to help you remove your outer garments to examine your wounds in detail after a long, hard battle. Wiping the blood from your shoulder with a soft, damp towel and bandaging it as gently as if he were an expert at such things.

A sly grin played across the elf vampire's face as he touched your bare skin, wiping away the dried blood and applying ointment to the bruises all over your body. Astarion takes your palm affectionately, kissing the scratch on the inside of your palm with an obvious smile on his face. And when a small drop of blood protrudes on the scratch, he licks it off lightly before looking at your reaction.