[ Dorian hadn't intended to stumble upon something quite so personal, with a very new friend; though he's had his share of surprisingly intimate conversation tonight, with Aemond, who was then a stranger.
It's the way of drinking, though he feels the imbalance in how much more sober Gale is than he (possibly entirely), the smile he struggles to hold.
Dorian wonders. Doesn't want to overstep, but trails his fingers gently up the tendrils of the mark. His own senses are muddied, tonight, but touching him he can feel the magic of it--different from his own, but undeniably powerful.
And there is something curdling in it, tainted. Dorian exhales softly, resting his knuckles at Gale's cheekbone, near to the fainter tendrils at his eye. ]
True. But it doesn't mean we must bear those consequences in our flesh.
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It's the way of drinking, though he feels the imbalance in how much more sober Gale is than he (possibly entirely), the smile he struggles to hold.
Dorian wonders. Doesn't want to overstep, but trails his fingers gently up the tendrils of the mark. His own senses are muddied, tonight, but touching him he can feel the magic of it--different from his own, but undeniably powerful.
And there is something curdling in it, tainted. Dorian exhales softly, resting his knuckles at Gale's cheekbone, near to the fainter tendrils at his eye. ]
True. But it doesn't mean we must bear those consequences in our flesh.