He goes still. Attention already drawn back from the sill and its pretty plant, not needing to measure the Ascian's face to recognize the obvious traces of veracity lingering in his tone, and yet chasing it down all the same.]
No, I suppose it isn't.
[Reality defying Astarion's suspicion that Hades had been displeased with his decision to go slipping willfully into the arms of an elf that had— albeit not intentionally— effectively abandoned him for a time (or if not that, just a flicker of passing jealousy). Small and not worth mentioning, only for the fact that—] We talked about this.
I talked to you about this. Before I ever so much as—
[His sigh is exhausted. Narrow shoulders sinking as if deflating, because whatever blow he'd been braced for, he doesn't need to hold onto now. As Astarion's own time with Fenris proved ever-so-quickly, there's no controlling who sinks their claws into your heart. Maybe before now he'd have been closed off when confronted with something like this, he doesn't know. As it stands, though, tiredly running a hand along his neck....
He gets it.]
I'm....
[Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, stare unblinking, gone glassy with sincerity.]
no subject
He goes still. Attention already drawn back from the sill and its pretty plant, not needing to measure the Ascian's face to recognize the obvious traces of veracity lingering in his tone, and yet chasing it down all the same.]
No, I suppose it isn't.
[Reality defying Astarion's suspicion that Hades had been displeased with his decision to go slipping willfully into the arms of an elf that had— albeit not intentionally— effectively abandoned him for a time (or if not that, just a flicker of passing jealousy). Small and not worth mentioning, only for the fact that—] We talked about this.
I talked to you about this. Before I ever so much as—
[His sigh is exhausted. Narrow shoulders sinking as if deflating, because whatever blow he'd been braced for, he doesn't need to hold onto now. As Astarion's own time with Fenris proved ever-so-quickly, there's no controlling who sinks their claws into your heart. Maybe before now he'd have been closed off when confronted with something like this, he doesn't know. As it stands, though, tiredly running a hand along his neck....
He gets it.]
I'm....
[Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, stare unblinking, gone glassy with sincerity.]
Sorry.