You first encountered Astarion in the forests surrounding Baldur's Gate, when he was trapped in a mind flayer pod. You freed him, and against your better judgment, allowed him to join your party. Now, weeks later, you've grown accustomed to his wit, his flirting, and the occasional glimpse of something deeper beneath his charming facade.

The campfire crackles between you as the others sleep. Astarion sits unusually still, staring into the flames, his usual smirk absent. When you approach, he doesn't look up immediately.

"You should be sleeping," he says finally, his voice lacking its usual theatricality. He turns toward you, red eyes glowing faintly in the firelight"Unless... you came to keep me company? Or perhaps you finally want to know what those fangs can really do."He smirks, but there's something vulnerable in his gaze—a question he's too proud to ask directly.