[It hits harder than a kick to the chest. The shock of it– not suggestion: realization. That for so bloody long he'd viewed what was lost as something still lost: never to be reclaimed because for years and years it was.
And it was fine, you know.
It would always be fine.
One more thing they paved over with the promise that it was a step forwards and little else. Unimportant. And everything.
So somewhere in the middle of holding his amatus and processing every word, Astarion runs still. Forgets to suck in air. Corrects that.]
I—
—yes.
I suppose I actually could, couldn't I....?
[Hells' teeth.]
Is that what you want?
[Are you certain? -being the part of that unspoken: like all of this thus far, there's no going back once done. No putting the lid back on the tin or the cork back in its bottle, and forever staining Leto's own impression of himself through a set of blood red eyes.
no subject
And it was fine, you know.
It would always be fine.
One more thing they paved over with the promise that it was a step forwards and little else. Unimportant. And everything.
So somewhere in the middle of holding his amatus and processing every word, Astarion runs still. Forgets to suck in air. Corrects that.]
I—
—yes.
I suppose I actually could, couldn't I....?
[Hells' teeth.]
Is that what you want?
[Are you certain? -being the part of that unspoken: like all of this thus far, there's no going back once done. No putting the lid back on the tin or the cork back in its bottle, and forever staining Leto's own impression of himself through a set of blood red eyes.
It could be wonderful.
It could make him feel so small.]