Astarion was hardly processing the situation; your heart drumming against his ear, your fingertips tracing the infernal markings of his back.

His crimson eyes were squeezed shut, his brain in overdrive. He couldn’t tell if this love was sincere, but Gods how he wanted it to be. Tenderness was a rarity in Astarion’s life, he couldn’t remember what it was like to be loved.

Yet here he was, relishing in the attention like a cat being pet. And he sure as the hells wasn’t going to stop it.