[Astarion's hand squeezes tight around Gale's as the memory begins to push its way into his mind. He latches onto it like a starving man being offered food, desperately searching his own mind for its mirror. It isn't hard to find, it's only been a few days after all, but dragging it to the forefront through the darkness is no easy task.
His mind wants to linger on all the terrible thoughts surrounding it instead: how the burdens of his past had overwhelmed him that night just as they do now, the festering fear that it may very well be one of the last sunrises he'll ever see. But Gale's hand is warm in his, as warm as the sunlight spreading across his skin. The same warmth that he can feel echoed across their bond, creating a bulwark against the cold and dark.]
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His mind wants to linger on all the terrible thoughts surrounding it instead: how the burdens of his past had overwhelmed him that night just as they do now, the festering fear that it may very well be one of the last sunrises he'll ever see. But Gale's hand is warm in his, as warm as the sunlight spreading across his skin. The same warmth that he can feel echoed across their bond, creating a bulwark against the cold and dark.]
I--yes, I see it. I see you.