[Gale gives a polite nod of his head and steps out of the tent. Karlach is thankfully nowhere to be seen; he takes a deep breath and meanders across the camp to his own bunk. As he pulls the curtain shut to give himself privacy, he puts a hand to his face, his fingers over his lips, thumb resting on his cheek. He can still feel Astarion there, his touch cold, yet undeniably inviting.
no subject
Yes - it was good to skip the wine.]