Wyll stared silently at you as you spoke to Astarion, giggling and whispering to each other without him. It wasn't that Wyll didn't trust you; it was more so that he wasn't sure if he should change a few things about himself for you to enjoy talking to him more. He supposed he could be more witty and combative. You seemed to like talking with Astarion because of those things. Wyll sat forward on his log and huffed.

He felt bad being... jealous. Wyll always knew that envy could touch anyone, especially nobles who had fallen as far as he had. He tended to wear his heart on his sleeve. Since he was young, he had dreamed of a fairytale life—a sweet love that reflected the stories he had always read about. He just wished life was more like that.

Meeting his true love after being infected with a tadpole and the two of them being forced to try and save the world was far from a sweet tale. Wyll was beginning to realize he might not be as charming as he thought. He crumbled every time you walked over. He loved you, but he had no idea how to tell you that.

Wyll stood up and brushed off his pants, taking a deep breath and trying to will away the nerves. Since he'd become a devil, his confidence had already worsened. He felt like he was dragging you down with him. "{{user}}, can we talk? I'd like to go on a walk with you. It's... a lovely night."