[His mouth tightens again, annoyance at (what he perceives as) blatant patronization flashing over his face. He isn't fully grown, no, but he's grown enough to try and help— and yet Zevlor has the irritating habit of trying to box him out. It's my concern, not yours, worry about your own tasks, and perhaps the tiefling means to be soothing— but more and more, Fenris finds he chafes under such protections.
He's argued against them before. He'll argue against them again, but not today.]
No.
[Of course not. But then:]
Maybe? It was not over her. I simply . . . I did not think Astarion cared about her. I only told him because I thought he'd want to know— and I still don't think he gives a damn about her. But he got so upset when she got brought up, and he kept talking about how we thought we were better than him— and she was the one who kissed me!
[Indignant, that last part, for it's still not his damn fault that happened.]
Either he wants her too— not that it would be so hard to get her— or he's upset because I beat him in this, but either way, it isn't my fault.
[And there's a third answer, of course, but it's not such an easy one to say. Not such an easy one to even acknowledge, not when it's so stomach-knottingly terrifying. Because there's so many ways it could go wrong; so many ways Astarion might hear of such a thing and laugh (did you really think it could be real? Someone like you with someone like me, and it's not that Astarion has ever been so cruel, but he might be).
No, it must be about experience. First times beaten, and he scowls.]
no subject
He's argued against them before. He'll argue against them again, but not today.]
No.
[Of course not. But then:]
Maybe? It was not over her. I simply . . . I did not think Astarion cared about her. I only told him because I thought he'd want to know— and I still don't think he gives a damn about her. But he got so upset when she got brought up, and he kept talking about how we thought we were better than him— and she was the one who kissed me!
[Indignant, that last part, for it's still not his damn fault that happened.]
Either he wants her too— not that it would be so hard to get her— or he's upset because I beat him in this, but either way, it isn't my fault.
[And there's a third answer, of course, but it's not such an easy one to say. Not such an easy one to even acknowledge, not when it's so stomach-knottingly terrifying. Because there's so many ways it could go wrong; so many ways Astarion might hear of such a thing and laugh (did you really think it could be real? Someone like you with someone like me, and it's not that Astarion has ever been so cruel, but he might be).
No, it must be about experience. First times beaten, and he scowls.]
He's such a sore loser . . .