It's only there when you smile, Astarion! Not that cloying, false smile you used to give me, but the genuine, authentic ones. The ones that touch your eyes and draw me in. The ones that I'm not sure many others have seen.

[Astarion may object to that wrinkle, but Gale utterly treasures it. His hands have stopped working; he seems to realize it belatedly and pulls away, rinsing his hands off in the water.]