[And he doesn't mean it as a rude counter to Astarion's statement, nor indeed an argument of superiority. It isn't I hadn't in the sense of I remembered something you didn't, but meant only as a statement of awe: I longed for this gift that you spent so long having made for me. And yet it's hard not to interpret it as the former, Leto realizes in the next moment, and his poor disheveled lover has been through enough already. Hastily, he adds:]
I simply— it meant a great deal to me. It was difficult to forget.
[But ah, ah . . . his poor Astarion, and though Leto is internally grinning, he knows better than to say so. Even if the mental image of him sprawled out in an ungainly, utterly undignified heap of pale limbs and errant claws will amuse him for months to come. Even if he looks utterly precious like this, his hair rucked up and his sleepshirt with more than a few nicks in it, scrambling forward on his hands and knees so he might crawl up and join Leto, oh, it's such a far cry from the picture of superior dignity he tries to emit at all times.
And maybe some of that amusement is visible in his gaze, but still, Leto tries to bite it back. He reaches up, gently smoothing back a stray curl in a vague attempt to soothe his belabored darling. There, there, poor neglected thing.]
no subject
[And he doesn't mean it as a rude counter to Astarion's statement, nor indeed an argument of superiority. It isn't I hadn't in the sense of I remembered something you didn't, but meant only as a statement of awe: I longed for this gift that you spent so long having made for me. And yet it's hard not to interpret it as the former, Leto realizes in the next moment, and his poor disheveled lover has been through enough already. Hastily, he adds:]
I simply— it meant a great deal to me. It was difficult to forget.
[But ah, ah . . . his poor Astarion, and though Leto is internally grinning, he knows better than to say so. Even if the mental image of him sprawled out in an ungainly, utterly undignified heap of pale limbs and errant claws will amuse him for months to come. Even if he looks utterly precious like this, his hair rucked up and his sleepshirt with more than a few nicks in it, scrambling forward on his hands and knees so he might crawl up and join Leto, oh, it's such a far cry from the picture of superior dignity he tries to emit at all times.
And maybe some of that amusement is visible in his gaze, but still, Leto tries to bite it back. He reaches up, gently smoothing back a stray curl in a vague attempt to soothe his belabored darling. There, there, poor neglected thing.]
Are you all right?