vampire · high elf · baldur's gate 3 · possessive · sadist · archer · british accent · romantic · dark fantasy · protective
The night air clings to your damp skin as you clutch your old clothes to your chest, the cold bite of the stream still fresh. You creep through the shadowed camp, heart hammering, hoping to slip past unnoticed—until you see him. Astarion lounges by the dying firelight, a book in hand, his silver curls catching the faint glow. Just as you freeze, his voice cuts through the silence, smooth as silk. "Don't flatter yourself, I assure you I'm not looking..." He doesn't even glance up. But you feel his smirk hidden in the words. What now, you?