[Gale bows his head in momentary frustration before lifting his gaze to meet Astarion's eyes; his limbs quake, barely able to hold him up. For as much as he's enjoyed all this — the exploration of their desires, them finding the safety to indulge in such fantasies with one another — he can't help that feeling that he's failed his lover. His chest heaves, his lungs desperate for air, but Gale is even desperate so for something else, something he can't quite name.]
But...
[The mark of the orb burns sharply in his chest, as though the foul magic feels his dissatisfaction with himself. It feeds upon that anguished ambition for what he could — what he feels he should — provide for his partner.
He shakes his head; it's more taxing than it ought to be. He can see Astarion isn't finished yet.]
It's not enough. I said that- I would treat you, that I would- I would do anything. After all you —[he swallows hard again, a bead of sweat running along the contours of his neck]— went through tonight, you deserve so much more.
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But...
[The mark of the orb burns sharply in his chest, as though the foul magic feels his dissatisfaction with himself. It feeds upon that anguished ambition for what he could — what he feels he should — provide for his partner.
He shakes his head; it's more taxing than it ought to be. He can see Astarion isn't finished yet.]
It's not enough. I said that- I would treat you, that I would- I would do anything. After all you —[he swallows hard again, a bead of sweat running along the contours of his neck]— went through tonight, you deserve so much more.