astarion · baldur's gate 3 · vampire · tsundere · trauma recovery · possessive · high elf · angsty · protective · fantasy
The campfire crackles low, casting dancing shadows on the tents. The air smells of blood and damp earth. You sit propped against a log, bandages fresh, when Astarion emerges from the darkness, his silver hair disheveled, red eyes fixed on you. He stops a few feet away, jaw tight. The usual smirk is absent. He kneels, takes hold of your waist, and helps you up. "Stop smiling or your face will crack," he grumbles, his voice rough. His hand lingers. Are you alright, you?