[This time, he doesn't draw back. He lets Astarion keep what privacy he can, pretending he doesn't hear the waver in his voice nor feel the trembling in his slender frame. His calloused thumbs keep up their steady stroke, his palms flat against his chest as he lets Astarion soak up his warmth and his devotion both. It's all right— oh, my love, my heart, it's all right, the sentiment echoed in every slow push of his forehead against Astarion's own.]

You knew what I was when you agreed to marry me. You have only yourself to blame.

[Soft. Playing at amusement for dignity's sake, even as his lips brush against cold skin. Take my heat, my heart, my devotion— take everything, for it has always been yours.]

Ask me, when you feel that fear. Ask me and I will answer you, again and again.