[ just as well he didn't say what matters is you. there would've been no keeping rand from regarding him, thoroughly awestruck, like a strange, rare thing. as it is, rand reflexively contradicts, ]

I'm not looking at you like anything.

[ even as he obligingly casts his eyes down, looking instead at his own fisted hands in his lap. he makes himself unclench them, smooth them out, focusing on the task like it's terribly important. hard to say how good a job it does at taking that expression out of astarion's view, but. he's trying. ]

I'm sorry, [ comes after a moment, dissonant with his own denial. ] You don't have to feign anything. [ he'd really rather astarion didn't, and it shows in his voice. ] And I'd rather you didn't tell anyone, but...

[ he shrugs, still looking down. it doesn't ultimately matter, what he'd rather. you cannot escape your fate. the dragon declared over falme. destiny and prophecy and past lives. he's more concerned for the vampire spawn's safety, truth be told, than his own. but surely astarion wouldn't risk himself unnecessarily. not for the sake of someone he doesn't know well. ]

Was it bad? [ is it a stupid pivot? it's an easier thing to wonder, looking back at the vampire spawn now. ] The taste, [ clarified. ] You seemed surprised as soon as you bit me.

[ is he on the cusp of genuinely apologizing if astarion says he tasted bad? yes. is he wondering how astarion's assertion that you can tell a person's nature reflects on him? also yes. ]