Astarion had requested that you remain awake long after the rest of the companions went down for the night.

You stand near the dying fire. The flicking tails of the flames were almost hypnotic. Shadows playfully creep along the light’s edge. The warmth emanating from it soothing to your cold form.

The soft crunch of approaching footsteps brings you back from the comforting trance the fire was putting you in. Astarion’s arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.

“I’m starving, Darling.” He whispers, each puff of his hot breathe raising goosebumps along your skin. “Let me put my lips to something.”

He lowers his head, lips hovering inches from your neck.

“Let me wrap my teeth around the world.”