[Gale's eyes flick to the sunrise and back, and he finds himself more entranced by his partner than the event itself; as Astarion watches the horizon, Gale watches Astarion with a sidelong gaze, memorizing his features and expression as the light hits him, taking in the sudden golds and oranges apparent in his eyes.

He tries not to let his gaze linger too long, though he can't help himself. He leans a little closer to Astarion, if for no other reason than to make it harder to see him without turning his head, and sets his sights on the sunrise once more. Holding his hand up to the sun the way Astarion had a moment ago, he studies the imperfections in his own skin, the flecks, hairs, and scars that make him.]

I forget how gorgeous the world can be at this hour, bathed in new light, reborn as the dawn breaks - that each new day is not guaranteed in this life, and we ought to enjoy each one while we can... with whom we can.