There could have been a smile trying to come across Astarion's face at Gale's suggestion of brighter things, and truly, he almost hoped that he had seen it, because soon enough the walls came flying back up to block out that hope.
He couldn't do that to himself.
. . .
๐๐ฆ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฎ. . .
Gale wants to say, reminiscent of one of his romance novels.
Maybe dip the vampire with a damn rose in his teeth or something.
But this is reality.
The bird is long gone, yet Gale can feel its absence on Astarionโs face.
;
๐๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ซ .แ
He lets the moment carry on, perhaps longer than he should. The quiet . . . Save for the breeze, the distant shuffle of other things father into the brush. The sun peeking through the canopy above their heads, warming his skin in a way he had nearly forgotten.
Its too long. It must end.
. . .
Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep
๐๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ซ .แ
A breeze captures the air, carrying leaves away with the pretty yellow bird. But none of these things take his attention away from the ethereal man in the center of it all.
A part of him hopes Astarion notices. Though, if he does, Gale isnโt brave enough to ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ต him notice.
;
Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep
For a moment, if he noticed Gale's presence at all, he didn't let on.
The bird twitters and he listens with rapt attention, until the creature notices it's growing audience and takes from his hand as quickly as it had come.
His gaze is locked in the direction it had gone, expression fallen.
๐๐ฌ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ซ .แ
Gale watches with slight surprise that melts into softnessโ when he thinks Astarion doesnโt notice of course.
Beautifulโฆ
The bird is nice too.
Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep
A small yellow bird perched on his finger ;
He's ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐.
