[It wasn't a cat fight, Fenris protests. It's semantics, but semantics matter a lot when you're still growing— and a cat fight implies something undignified, which their fight was not. As far as anyone else is concerned, anyway, and since no one else was there, no one gets to say whether or not that's true.
Or maybe Astarion will simply call it a cat fight just to spite Fenris.
He wouldn't necessarily be wrong, Kanan thinks as he waits outside of Astarion's door. Nor would his spite be totally out of place, not after that bite. There's a part of him that still can't believe— but then again, they are teenagers, and gods know all kinds of hormones are firing off for both of them right now. The real question is whether or not Fenris knew what he was doing with that, but ah, that's for Zevlor to discover.
His task lies ahead.
He gives Astarion a little time. Not long enough to work himself up into a proper sulk, but just enough to take some of the immediate heat from the argument. It's a risky move, admittedly, because Astarion might now be upset that Kanan hadn't come immediately— but ah, everything is risky with teenagers.]
Astarion?
[He knocks twice and comes in anyway, in the spirit of both respecting his independence whilst still asserting his authority as parent. But while there's sternness in his expression, it's softer than Zevlor's fierce scowl, and there's a glimmer of understanding in his gaze.
He knows what it's like, you see, to want to succeed so badly and impress someone all at once. To hear that they've been with another, and feel such seething, hideously jealous inadequacy . . .
no subject
Or maybe Astarion will simply call it a cat fight just to spite Fenris.
He wouldn't necessarily be wrong, Kanan thinks as he waits outside of Astarion's door. Nor would his spite be totally out of place, not after that bite. There's a part of him that still can't believe— but then again, they are teenagers, and gods know all kinds of hormones are firing off for both of them right now. The real question is whether or not Fenris knew what he was doing with that, but ah, that's for Zevlor to discover.
His task lies ahead.
He gives Astarion a little time. Not long enough to work himself up into a proper sulk, but just enough to take some of the immediate heat from the argument. It's a risky move, admittedly, because Astarion might now be upset that Kanan hadn't come immediately— but ah, everything is risky with teenagers.]
Astarion?
[He knocks twice and comes in anyway, in the spirit of both respecting his independence whilst still asserting his authority as parent. But while there's sternness in his expression, it's softer than Zevlor's fierce scowl, and there's a glimmer of understanding in his gaze.
He knows what it's like, you see, to want to succeed so badly and impress someone all at once. To hear that they've been with another, and feel such seething, hideously jealous inadequacy . . .
He closes the door behind him.]
Tell me what happened.