Astarion has this calculated to the moment. To the second. To the exact minute.

Every lustful glance. Every snide, flirting remark. It's a prompt. It's what Astarion gives out to so assure that he'll get his way.

Assure that he'll stay safe.

With every "Would you like some tea? Wine?" and smoldering eyes, he's playing into the goal. With every "Come see me when all is resting", his moves are plotted out.

Until it wasn't.

Basking in the moon, quietly in the aftermath, it hits Astarion. It renders him almost breathless.

Astarion is falling in love.