[Brat, and Leto scoffs out a laugh, amused and (falsely) indignant all at once. Impertinent little brat, and he eases into the familiar back-and-forth like he sinks into a hot bath, soothed by it and all that it represents. Yes, I know, coming out in the way their eyes meet and the firm press of Leto's fingers against Astarion's thigh. We're all right, this is all right, and while they'll inevitably circle back again later, it's no bad thing to sink into distraction.]
Mm, better.
[He leans back, flashing a sharp grin of his own to match the one Astarion sports. Opening the book, he idly thumbs through the pages (his own scrawl evident here or there, indignant notations and exasperated explanations).]
no subject
Mm, better.
[He leans back, flashing a sharp grin of his own to match the one Astarion sports. Opening the book, he idly thumbs through the pages (his own scrawl evident here or there, indignant notations and exasperated explanations).]
Though I still haven't heard please.