[It's her, it's her, it's her, the thought echoing in time with his thundering pulse and sweetly underscored by the lilting cadence of her voice. It's her, Astarion, my Astarion, and yet still, he might have spent minutes gaping at her in if not for that sweet reset. He exhales softly in delight, his ears flicking to hear that echoed Tevene—

And with it comes a shift, slow and subtle and yet undeniable for how it changes his countenance. His eyes go dark as his chin tips down, his eyes slow as he drinks her in inch by unsubtle inch. Hot exhales come slower now, his posture stilling as his muscles tense in anticipation— and then, with heavy deliberation, Fenris takes a step forward. And then another, his hand slipping into her cloak to wrap around her waist, pushing her until he crowds her against the wall. One leg slips forward, wedging mercilessly between her own, the line of his thigh pressing firm against welling heat. Soft and plush even through layers of clothes, and with a little grin he nudges his thigh up, grinding experimentally against her.]

Just the opposite.

[His voice has dipped down low, rumbling in the base of his throat. She's so pretty like this, her skin all but glowing in the near-sunlight and her lips curled up in such a coy smirk. His thumb strokes against her hip as his other hand slides down to catch catch her chin, keeping her face upturned.]

Beautiful thing . . . did you risk the sun just to find me?

[His thumb rubs slowly against the swell of her bottom lip once, twice, before he ducks down to brush his lips against her deadened pulsepoint, his words pooling hot against her skin.]

And now that you have . . . what do you suggest, hm? That I carry you to a brothel so that I can pin you to the bed and tease you with my tongue until you beg me to fuck you? Or that we stay out here and ru—