He and Michael had fallen into a comfortable routine, their evenings spent sat by the campfire while the spawn read through his many books of poetry he'd picked up from various traders from the past week. He had noticed the interest that Michael had taken with the poems, so Astarion had started reading them out loud for him.
michael is not used to having company. he has spent the past decades completely alone and isolated, having no one but himself to entertain himself and keep himself alive and strong. it's been routine and what he's been comfortable with, but now with astarion, he is getting used to this way of life. the vampire is kind enough to travel with him to help him find a remedy to his uncontrollable transformations. they've spent the past three days and nights together and so far, michael has been able to retain his human form. but he doesn't know how long that's going to last for. and he doesn't know if he'll be able to control himself when he's back on all fours and covered with fur.
baby blue and pale white constantly watch the other when he buries his nose in books of poetry. if michael could read, he would pick one up himself. astarion asks him why he doesn't read too and michael admits he can't read. to his surprise, the following night, astarion begins reading out to him unprompted. michael finishes his dinner and sets the plates aside, attention focusing on his companion as he says words michael doesn't understand. still, he enjoys hearing the poetry and of course, the company that comes along with it.
