[ Astarion's touch is no less steady as he reaches up to wipe that tear away, half intent to comfort and half as though he could keep that tear for himself, stow it away as one might a jewel, more precious than any diamond. Proof that he's loved. For once, he's lost for words, his usual wit paling in the face of such overwhelming sentiment. What could he possibly say that would be worthy of such a moment? He can't fracture this, can't do anything but try to capture each and every detail in his memory. His eyes glitter in the second before he shifts forward, pulling Gale into a tight embrace.
Only Gale, after a lifetime of emptiness and distance. (I waited two hundred years for you.) Unworthiness and imperfection, seen through another lens. Yet, seen by each other, there's only perfection. There's nothing he'd change about Gale, in mind or in body. ]
I love you.
[ A whisper, first, the words finally in the order he'd intended, given over to the hair's breadth of space between them, the lovely blue-green-gold of his gaze. ]
I love you.
[ Once, twice — he loses track, the words stifled only once their lips meet, too overtaken by affection to think of shyness. All he can feel is want, distilled by reciprocation into something new. ]
no subject
Only Gale, after a lifetime of emptiness and distance. (I waited two hundred years for you.) Unworthiness and imperfection, seen through another lens. Yet, seen by each other, there's only perfection. There's nothing he'd change about Gale, in mind or in body. ]
I love you.
[ A whisper, first, the words finally in the order he'd intended, given over to the hair's breadth of space between them, the lovely blue-green-gold of his gaze. ]
I love you.
[ Once, twice — he loses track, the words stifled only once their lips meet, too overtaken by affection to think of shyness. All he can feel is want, distilled by reciprocation into something new. ]