[ Astarion โ a flash of anger, then, that he couldnโt have mustered for the violation of his own mind, which belonged to another in its entirely for so long. And even if Armand didnโt have his ways, Gale is an open book: Thoughts play out in the pinch of his brow and purse of his lips. Forgiveness, particularly in matters of intimacy and privacy, is not Astarionโs way. The deception does not pass muster. ]
[ sharply โ ] Oh, I can.
[ His grip loosens and falls away, but Armand wonโt feel the relief. An invisible hand tightens around his wrist in place of Galeโs own, just strong enough to be unpleasant, thumb digging into his pulse (or lack thereof).
He splays his hands once again, showing off. ]
Can you?
[ If Armand attempts it, Gale will play at restraining him. Heโd rather not fight, but thereโs something to be said for a preemptive show of strength. ]
no subject
[ sharply โ ] Oh, I can.
[ His grip loosens and falls away, but Armand wonโt feel the relief. An invisible hand tightens around his wrist in place of Galeโs own, just strong enough to be unpleasant, thumb digging into his pulse (or lack thereof).
He splays his hands once again, showing off. ]
Can you?
[ If Armand attempts it, Gale will play at restraining him. Heโd rather not fight, but thereโs something to be said for a preemptive show of strength. ]