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[thirsted]

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ASTARION

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[thirsted]

You wouldn't be a bother even if you took up an entire room.
And, frankly, I doubt a couple of days would wear on anyone.

[ Considering the circumstances. ]

I'll be over to help you carry things, then, once you've finished packing.

[kobes]

[koby considers mustering up a joke, something light, something that matches astarion’s benevolently glib reply. it falls short somewhere in his head, somewhere in the knot of hurt beneath his ribs, and he lets it go.]

I don’t think I have nearly enough things to take up an entire room.
But thank you. I mean it, both of you.

[preemptive apologies for being unpleasant, depressing, a weight that’ll drag everyone else down – also die in that tangle, likely for the better.]

Lincoln’s very particular about how things are packed, but it shouldn’t be too long. :)

[thirsted]

[ Astarion can sense it, he thinks, pulsing between the pixels that spells out texts that aren't quite innocuous, per se, but play down what he imagines Koby to be feeling. Contained, controlled sadness hiding a whirlpool. But this is— the best he can do. What he would want for himself, were their roles reversed. ]

As is her right as a sophisticated lady.
I'll wait to hear from you. Take as long as you need.

[kobes]

[astarion has it pegged exactly -- koby isn't sure how, but he's grateful for it, for the escape in the casual, congenial air of the conversation. it doesn't jostle the hurt, the ache too deeply, it allows a facade that keeps the teeming grief at bay.

so, by way of thanks, he doesn't text again (he has a packing task to attend to), but he does send one thing more:]

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