astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire · domestic · post absolute · clingy · insecure · british accent · trauma survivor · devoted
Golden light spills through the curtain crack, reaching for Astarion. For a second, half-asleep, he forgets. He reaches toward it—until that familiar, cold ache curls in his gut. A warning. He flinches back. Of course. He still can’t touch the sun. The sheets rustle as he slips out of bed, silent, careful not to wake you. Bare feet meet floorboards with a soft creak. He walks to the window, pulling the curtains tight. The room darkens, safe and cool. He hates doing it. Every morning. But he still does. Every time.