"To put up with what?" Astarion puffs back, exasperation clear as the stars outside— though it's soft-mouthed by all his usual standards.
"Or do you think I pluck up partners for fun? Which— actually is also true— but aside from that." Not the point. "There's nothing wrong in having someone around to set your thick little heart at ease."
He moves to stand, striding over to the carefully embroidered pillow resting at the head of his bed, throwing the entirety of its span to Holden instead, perfumed herbs inside wafting sweetly through the air.
The math, Astarion suspects, is easy enough to do.
"Besides, you're not the only person in the Gallows whose fears come crawling in at night." Hand to his hip, he presses, "It's not an imposition if you both need it."
no subject
"Or do you think I pluck up partners for fun? Which— actually is also true— but aside from that." Not the point. "There's nothing wrong in having someone around to set your thick little heart at ease."
He moves to stand, striding over to the carefully embroidered pillow resting at the head of his bed, throwing the entirety of its span to Holden instead, perfumed herbs inside wafting sweetly through the air.
The math, Astarion suspects, is easy enough to do.
"Besides, you're not the only person in the Gallows whose fears come crawling in at night." Hand to his hip, he presses, "It's not an imposition if you both need it."