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These days, most everybody in camp had learned to wave away Astarion’s advances with a laugh. They found the flirtation titillating, Gale figured, or a bit threatening, or some combination of the two. He wondered if anybody else found it sad.
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Good old-fashioned rumination on choice and compulsion. Gale and Astarion shake off their metaphorical shackles.
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“Look,” Gale says tightly, “I don’t know how flashing around that magistrate’s chain tends to work for you, but I’m not exactly beholden to my sense of civil service.”
“Oh, darling, no.” Astarion waves a hand, disappointingly unbothered. “I just figured you the wrong side of pathetic without some company. I prefer more of a challenge.”
Gale’s gaze hardens. “Thanks,” he grunts.
Bookmarked by mossfloss1
18 Dec 2023