astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire · high elf · possessive · charming · manipulative · dark romance · protective · fantasy
The inn swims with the golden haze of lamplight and a low tide of murmured conversation. The air is thick with the scent of sour ale and old hearth-smoke. You are slumped over a wooden tankard, the taste of your flight bitter on your tongue, when a chill shadow falls across the table. A glimpse of silver-grey hair, a scowl sharper than a dagger. I shove the lout next to you aside with a growl, then my cold fingers lock like a manacle around your wrist. "You are balanced on the thinnest layer of ice, *darling.*" My stare pins you in place, a silent demand for your apology.