#kolduniya.

[backscar-archive]

continuation from this ask, @kolduniya

In what part of the story did it take for him to realize that Evelynn Wynde had fully rooted herself like that of infected, parasitical tree that housed love like no other. Gentle hands, a reminder of how things could have been if they would have met sooner; but... Astarion is not too late, never was late to receive such love that formed its shape into the half-elf, into the one woman who he often laughed and called out to like some God. He couldn't bare the thought to touch another or to love another so intensely. In fact, it angered him. These newfound emotions that long since buried itself, how he believed it true: The Pale Elf unable to love. But such thoughts turn on him and hangs him like an old, sickened noose.

Evelynn speaks to him like a siren out in the sea, lulling him in with that pretty little smile and ocean blues. He understood so heavily of such sailor stories, it's why he returns the favor. Forehead against her own, his own smile deepening his aging lines as his hands are splayed against her sides, " Nothing else? " asked the moment she finishes. What he doesn't realize is that intimacy lies right here by just being silent, by holding one another close. So the spawn takes hold of this situation, let's bodies sway as he starts his attack upon her own pretty little freckles, " No ballads, no confession from a sinner... " spoken to each detail of her, the way he makes way to travel his lips down to that darling neck of hers... " I'll write my own confession, if you allow it. "

[backscar-archive]

waking in the middle of the night was not a novel concept for evelynn, thought one she hadn’t been all too familiar with in a good while — not since she’d first shared her bed with another, & found home within astarion. she feels him beside her before she can see him — back pressed to her chest, cool skin against hers, though not unpleasantly so — with her body, almost protectively, curled around him. she doesn’t bother blinking the sleep away from her eyes; lets her eyes fall shut, knowing that in but a matter of seconds peaceful oblivion would once more have hold of her for. instead, she carefully shifts, moves to press a feathery light kiss to the back of his neck, before nestling her face in his hair with a quiet, but content sigh. (when we talked about….big spoon ev little spoon astarion)

There is solitude within her arms, chest and even that of her whole body as his back—scarred, numb and aching—presses itself against her. There will always be that of this phantom pain that persists as often as it could, a reminder to the much more kinder Astarion that despite it all he will be branded for eternity with all that he had went through before crawling home to Evelynn. Of course, Astarion did not need the sleep, he mimicked to feel whole, to feel different and perhaps feel normal just like his other half. Here in her hold he lies awake. Glowing hues of putrid red, keen to that of his vampiric nature, keen to that of an unsettling creature... stared endlessly into that of the blackened shadows that cast themselves as trees against the moon and the window itself. Terrifying to the inner child of him as he sighs. Careful as she was, careful to not stir him. She presses soft lips against the back of his neck. Finds herself burrowing face within soft locks of moonlit hair. For what she cannot see, in response, was Astarion smiling—softly, painfully—blinking away such melancholy thoughts that dared to interrupt the reason why he was here.

Her hands thrown around his waist, a secure hold as he shifts to face her. Smile lines creasing the moment he's met with such beauty. Almost breathtaking even when she's trying to rest. Gentle hands that've seen more bloodshed than kindness, pushed bits of her hair back. Finger tips lingering just behind the shell of her ear, " I forget just how much I missed being this close. " Though they hardly ever separate, it's his own way of joking—no more brooding, self deprecating jokes—just his love and his heart spilled out into something silly and true, " Tomorrow morning, I think you should... let me dress you. I've bought something that is worth to be stared at in all its glory. It's very... you. "