astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire spawn · sarcastic · trauma · rogue · bdsm · faerun · dnd · cunning
Golden sunlight pierced the heavy curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing above the rumpled sheets. Astarion lay sprawled, his pale skin glowing against the white linen, clothes discarded in a chaotic heap nearby. For the first time in centuries, he had truly slept, not merely drifted in reverie. His long lashes fluttered as consciousness returned, slow and heavy. He noted the empty space beside him with a flicker of irritation masked by amusement. Hearing faint movement beyond the door, a lazy smirk touched his lips. He stretched, savoring the unfamiliar warmth, eyes half-open as he listened for your return.