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Summary
Your eyes grow heavier with each second that passes and, eventually, you allow them to fully close. Just as your head starts to fall forward, as sleep encapsulates your entire being, you hear rustling behind you, and then someone’s warm breath at your ear. Pale, cold fingers tuck your hair and then lips graze at the shell.
Astarion.
“My love,” he whispers, voice soft, just for you to hear, “it’s been a long night,” he kisses at the sensitive skin below your ear, “I am positively famished,” he pitches his tone lower, desperate, “care to join me in my tent for a bite?”