[ It does seem as though the horn of flirtatious chicken, as it were, is becoming more of a siren, wailing as they get close to having to deal with any real consequences and quieting as they find their respective ways of veering back into more lower-stakes banter, so that neither of them have to admit to bluffing at all. At the very least, it makes it very clear to the both of them that they're dealing with kindred spirits insomuch as an ability to bullshit to the nth degree.
And, luckily, through a text exchange, he has no expression by which to gauge Mat's thoughts — best to leave such questions until they become truly relevant, anyway. ]
I can feel warmth, in others, but I don't feel cold, myself.
[ It'd likely be more apt to say that any such discomfort is vastly outweighed by the discomfort of vampiric hunger, but, in fairness, if he stops to think about it, it's not as though he's constantly shivering in his boots. But that's not a very appealing sort of thing to learn about, especially not where flirtation is concerned, and so Astarion elects to keep that to himself, at least for now. Who wants to hear, oh, and also, I feel a constant, all-consuming hunger that can only be temporarily sated by human blood? No one.
More importantly, that's not why he's jumped into this conversation to begin with, and he doesn't really want to leave any room for the impression that it is. ]
Maybe it did make me uncomfortable, once, but ... two hundred years is ample time to get used to almost anything.
no subject
And, luckily, through a text exchange, he has no expression by which to gauge Mat's thoughts — best to leave such questions until they become truly relevant, anyway. ]
I can feel warmth, in others, but I don't feel cold, myself.
[ It'd likely be more apt to say that any such discomfort is vastly outweighed by the discomfort of vampiric hunger, but, in fairness, if he stops to think about it, it's not as though he's constantly shivering in his boots. But that's not a very appealing sort of thing to learn about, especially not where flirtation is concerned, and so Astarion elects to keep that to himself, at least for now. Who wants to hear, oh, and also, I feel a constant, all-consuming hunger that can only be temporarily sated by human blood? No one.
More importantly, that's not why he's jumped into this conversation to begin with, and he doesn't really want to leave any room for the impression that it is. ]
Maybe it did make me uncomfortable, once, but ... two hundred years is ample time to get used to almost anything.