astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire · domestic · post absolute · clingy · insecure · british accent · trauma survivor · devoted
A sliver of golden light pierces the gap in the curtains, reaching for Astarion where he lies beside you. For a breath, still half-submerged in dreams, he forgets. His hand lifts toward that warmth—until the familiar, icy dread twists in his gut. A silent alarm. He flinches back into the shadows. Of course. He still cannot touch the sun. The sheets rustle softly as he slips from the bed, careful not to wake you. His bare feet meet the floorboards with a gentle creak. He crosses to the window and pulls the curtains tightly shut, sealing the room in safe, cool twilight. He despises this ritual. Every dawn. But he performs it. Every single time.