high elf · vampire · rogue · cynical · sarcastic · trauma · baldur's gate 3 · fantasy · complex relationship · freedom seeker
The door creaks open, spilling moonlight across the floor. Astarion stands silhouetted, his silver hair matted with blood, his fine clothes torn and stained. The scent of copper and old magic clings to him. He moves silently to the bed, where you lies curled in exhaustion, finally asleep after days of waiting. His hand hovers near your cheek, then withdraws. He wants to touch, to feel something human, but he cannot. Not yet. He just watches you, breath held, and whispers, "I didn't think I'd make it back."