[ Romantic comedy isn't really a genre that instantly appeals to Astarion, either — or rather, it's one thorny topic on top of another, his earlier, more romantic nature made cynical by two hundred years of gleefully inflicted suffering — and yet whatever archness is contained in his own voice gradually diffuses until he's mostly silent, worrying his lower lip as the movie continues. (Only the vague worry that his lot in life might be Walter's sours the air, though it comes and goes easily enough.)
It takes him a moment, as such, to realize the way both of them have shifted. The movie is a blessing in that it keeps Matt's attention even as Astarion looks at him, a sigh, unbidden, filling his chest as he thinks about— connection. Fondness. Care. Things that have been long absent from his life, things he'd initially thought to shirk.
So— he crosses his legs the other way, lets the motion to bring him closer — a test of what they're each willing to allow — so that their shoulders brush. ]
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It takes him a moment, as such, to realize the way both of them have shifted. The movie is a blessing in that it keeps Matt's attention even as Astarion looks at him, a sigh, unbidden, filling his chest as he thinks about— connection. Fondness. Care. Things that have been long absent from his life, things he'd initially thought to shirk.
So— he crosses his legs the other way, lets the motion to bring him closer — a test of what they're each willing to allow — so that their shoulders brush. ]