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butididntpourthewhiskeys · 2 months ago

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🤍 seven feet in the swing - I 🤍

As Taylor pushes open the door, the familiar creak feels heavier than usual, like a warning. The house is quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling studio she just left behind.

"Trav?" she calls out, her voice wavering slightly, but the only answer is the silence that envelops her. She sighs, drops her bag by the door. She sighs when she receives no answer, turns on the lights in the hallway and realizes that he's not home. The gym is locked by the alarm system. The lights are off. And it's not the same. It's not the same as it used to be when she came home from the studio, knowing he was in the city. The living room greets her with its disarray—pillows scattered, his stinky sweatshirt from his earlier workout hanging over one of their dining chairs. Her sigh bounces off the walls, but it's met with only the soft patter of paws coming from their hiding spots, weaving around her legs gently. She kneels down to scratch Olivia behind their ears. She smiles. In contrast to her sister, this cat will forever be happy to see her.

"Where's dad?" she whispers to herself and the cat and gets up again, the phone she just placed on the dining table lighting up.

Hey babe, I'll be home late. Got caught up with some stuff. Don't wait for me.

Stuff. She can imagine what that word implicates. He met up with a few of his buddies for drinks. A new habit of his that she wasn't used to up until last year. Last year when he hurt his knee bad enough to know that he won't be able to play for another cycle. Last year on that rainy day in Rhode Island, when she held him for hours, his face pressed against her chest, crying like a child, knowing that one of the most important times of his life would come to an end soon. She knows he's been struggling ever since he quit football, but it feels like he's pulling further away, like the distance between them has become a chasm. At first, she thought he just needed time to grieve the end of football. She thought he needed time to clear his head, get clear on what projects he wants to focus on post season. But then, he did get those projects kick started. He got the roles he wanted, he got the success he wanted and she's there. She's always been there, to celebrate and support him at every step of his way. But still, things are different. Old feelings of anxiety are slowly interrupting her dreams at night nowadays. Songs that once were about the deep feeling of happiness have slowly become more dark, angsty, melancholic. She's been here before. Right before she left London four years ago, she found herself in the exact same spot. Next to her partner, but feeling completely alone.

Taylor swallows, making her way into their bedroom. She can't think like that, can't always compare her relationship to past ones. She quickly turns on the little night light, yawns loudly as she sits down on her side of the bed and takes off her shoes. A lot has changed in this house since Travis moved in as well. Getting married has made it even easier to turn every single one of her houses into their house. A bigger bed, more space for his sneakers and a new wallpaper are lighting up the room. It's not just her space anymore, it's his space too. And she'd be lying if she said she didn't love it. She loves sharing her life with this man. From the moment he made her laugh for the very first time, almost exactly three years ago, Taylor knew that her heart would never be the same. He opened up areas of her soul she thought were closed up forever. He brought nothing but joy, excitement and magic into her life and she wants to be the same for him, especially now where he's the one dealing with some hard stuff.

Taylor yawns once more, changes into one of his t-shirts that she usually sleeps in and enters their shared bathroom. It's not even ten o'clock but she's absolutely exhausted, which is not typical for her at all. She's usually a night owl, having a completely different sleep rhythm to most people she knows, which entails going to bed more often when the lights come out and sleeping well into the afternoon. She's gotten a lot better after the eras tour has ended, but going to sleep at ten o'clock is early, even for her.

Taylor reaches for one of her hair clips to stick up her hair a little before washing her face with warm water. A few minutes later she's brushed her teeth, moisturized her face and sighs slightly annoyed when picking up some of Travis' socks that he managed to toss right underneath the sink instead of simply placing them in the laundry basket. She still doesn't understand why that's so hard? With cold hands and a few cramps in her stomach, Taylor turns off the light in the master bathroom and sneaks under the sheets of their shared bed. She reaches for her phone and checks her emails for a moment. Benjamin has just made his way onto the soft bedsheets and Taylor just caresses the soft fur for a moment.

"I know. Dad is coming home late. We can go to bed already.." she mumbles to the little cat that confusedly starts to pull at Travis' side of the bed.

A few moments later, she closes her eyes, fighting sleep until her body just gives in.

___

Taylor wakes up all of the sudden, a loud bang of the front door causing her to sit up in bed upright. She feels dizzy, slightly nauseous from having been taken out of her deep sleep all of the sudden. Her night light is still on, and even the cats are looking at her confused. Trav's side of the bed is still empty. She swallows. Her hair in all directions, her eyes puffy from sleep.

"Trav?" she yells tiredly, realizing quickly that the loud bang of the door must have been her husband coming home, finally. She checks her phone quickly. 1:37am. She can't believe he is just now coming home. For a moment, she can't hear anything from downstairs. He also didn't answer her, which is absolutely unlike him.

"Baby?" she tries one more time. No answer. Taylor feels panic arise in her. She's alone in the house. If this was Travis, he would've replied to her already. Just when she reaches for her phone to give him a call is when she hers footsteps coming up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

"Travis?" she yells again, no answer. Immediately, Taylor feels her hands getting sweaty. Her breathing pattern becomes faster and more shallow. Someone broke into the house. She needs to call security, right now, before whoever this person is gets to her. With shaking hands, she tries to unlock her phone, but fails. Panic builds up in her like a tidal wave. This is it. The person who intruded her home will be in this room in less than two seconds. For a moment, she feels helpless. A whining cry emerging from her mouth all of the sudden when she starts to rummage the drawer next to her bed for her pepper spray. This is it. Her biggest nightmare is coming true. She can feel Benjamin jumping from his spot, seeming to feel the fear radiating from her. And just when she was about to scream, he just stands in the doorway. Him. The big, tall guy she knows so well. Within a second, she starts crying and he looks at her with utter confusion.

"Tay, what.."

"Why didn't you answer?!" she sobs yelling, immediately getting up. She feels so ridiculous all of the sudden. Ridiculous, ashamed, angry.

"What do you mean?" he just asks, standing there in his sweats in confusion, taking one of his AirPods out of his ears.

"I heard you come home and I called you and you didn't answer!" she says, tears streaming down her face. She's angry. Angry and terrified. For a moment, she really feared for her life.

"I.. I had my headphones in listening to a podcast. I'm sorry, babe. I didn't hear anything when I.."

"You know how scared I get when I'm alone in the house and.."

"Tay, I swear to god, if I had heard you, I would've.." "You can't just walk up the stairs in the middle of the night and not let me know that it is you." she says then, standing in front of him in nothing but his oversized tee, her long hair curly and in all directions, arms crossed and tears rolling down her cheeks. He feels horrible all of the sudden, notices her hands shaking uncontrollably when she tries to wipe away the tears from her cheek.

"Fuck, I.. I'm so sorry, Tay. I wasn't thinking..."

He's glad she's not yelling anymore. Glad she seems to listen finally.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I really didn't mean to scare you. Come here." he mumbles, immediately pulling her in for a tight hug. His face quickly finds the spot he calls his home. His face in the crook of her neck, the smell of her skin entering his nose and wandering up to his blood stream. Coming home means coming to her. How could he ever forget. How could he forget this feeling for just a second?

"I'm so so sorry, sweetie." he whispers into her skin a few times, beardy kisses tickling her neck. But all she does is hold on to him with closed eyes. She's safe again. She's finally safe again in his arms.

Travis pulls back, his two hands landing on her cheeks. She can see the shock in his eyes, too. He really didn't mean to scare her. She knows. Her hand wanders to his and she nods, her chin still trembling from before. Travis slowly leans down to plant his forehead against hers. He feels her take a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. He gives her a few seconds, then comes closer to kiss her lips. For a moment, she enjoys his proximity. But then, she notices something else. A very particular smell.

"Have you been smoking?" she asks then, has pulled back and looks at him in confusion. Smoking weed is something he struggled with in school and college, she knows. But it's been something he has done only twice since she knows him. Both times were the night out after winning a Superbowl - a good excuse to pretty much do anything you would like to do to celebrate for the night. But aside from that, Travis pretty much stays away from anything intoxicating at all times. She knows that ending his career as an athlete means more food and alcohol freedom, but she isn't used to him coming home at almost two in the morning on a Tuesday evening smelling like weed. She knows she guessed right, when he just lets go off her face, takes a few steps around the bed to his side, and starts to take off his watch.

"Maybe." he says, and he knows she doesn't like it.

"Uhm.. okay, why?"

He looks at her in pure disbelief, letting out a low hissing sound and shaking his head.

"You're asking me why I smoked?" he says, and she knows this is not a question. He's mad at her for asking. And she's having none of it. Her arms are crossing instantly.

"Yes, I'm asking why you decided to smoke weed on a Tuesday evening."

"Well, mom, I went to celebrate my friend's Parker's fortieth birthday and we tried some of his cigars and then had some weed later on. Is that a problem for you?"

"Why didn't you take me to your friend's birthday party?" she clearly hates the fact that he just called her 'mom' but she won't get into this now. She doesn't understand why he didn't tell her about his plans earlier today. Doesn't understand why he didn't ask her to join him, the way he usually always does.

Travis just snorts amusedly at her earlier comment, tiredly rubs his eyes while taking off his shirt.

"Baby, this was a boys only thing. None of the guys had their spouses there."

"Okay." she just replies, tries really hard to not make a big deal out of this. And she usually wouldn't. Two years ago, she would've welcomed him with open arms, giggling into his chest over the fact that he smells like an Irish pub on a week night. She would've asked him to walk half naked on a line to prove his alleged sobriety and probably couldn't wait to feel his naked body weight on hers in bed finally. This is how the old Taylor would have reacted. The version of herself that was imminently, ridiculously and uncontrollably in love with this man. Her best friend. Her man. Her future husband.

The love of her life.

But two years ago, things were different than they are now. There were no texts left unresponded. No weekends in the same city spent apart. No absent of sex for over a week while sleeping in the same bed every night. He's depressed, absent, not himself at the moment. She knows. But she misses him. She misses his smile, his big hands, the happy sparkle in his eyes. She misses the man who always made an effort to be his best version for her. Not the shell of a person she finds standing across the room from her now. Absent, annoyed, almost...cold.

She swallows, just watches him get ready for bed.

"I thought you had to fly to LA tomorrow morning?" she asks then, following him into the bathroom where he stands half naked in front of the sink, brushing his teeth with two left hands. He's still high as hell, and there's no denying it. She can tell.

"Yup. Meetings."

"When are you gonna be back?"

"On the eleventh." he mumbles with his toothbrush in his mouth.

"Great. So you'll be gone for a good week and this is how we spend our last evening." she murmurs, obviously hurt and just steps bare feet back to bed. He sighs, rolls his eyes for a moment and follows her to bed as soon as he's dried his face.

"Tay, it's a week. I'm not going away for a month."

She doesn't say anything, just turns off her little night light and tucks herself into bed, facing away from him. She's annoyed, and he can tell. But he's way too out of it right now to have a serious conversation with her right now. It's not a big deal, and he doesn't understand why she has to turn this into one.

Travis snuggles into the sheets as well, sets his phone alarm and turns off the lights on his side, too. He lets himself fall into his pillow, then moves his arm to hold her close. From behind, his lips find their way back into her hair and remain there, kissing her head a few times.

"I'm sorry, baby. Don't be mad at me." he whispers and she sighs. She's not angry, she's sad. For whatever reason, all she can feel is worry and sadness.

"I'm not mad." she whispers back, her hand landing on his that is wrapped tightly around her torso. "I just miss you." she says then and he doesn't react, his lips stealing her naked shoulder one kiss. "I'm right here. I'll always be right here, Tay." he replies and she stays silent for a moment.

"You're not."

Travis doesn't move for a moment, then turns around in bed and managed to turn on the little night light again.

"What's up?" he asks again, now sitting up in bed and looking at her. She's got watery eyes and he has no idea what is going on with her. She also slowly sits up now, her curls standing in all directions, which he loves so much.

"Nothing. I just.. I'm worried about you." she says then, and he looks at her in confusion.

"Why?"

She hesitates for a moment, can't believe that he doesn't feel it, too. He must feel that something has changed, that their relationship has changed. But instead, he acts like it didn't.

"I don't.. I don't feel as close to you anymore as I used to." she finally gets out, her eyes hyper focused on her hands now, her voice on the verge of breaking. She doesn't know where these emotions are suddenly coming from, but they're there. They're there and she feels them stinging in her chest.

"Tay, what.. what are you talking about?" he replies now, feels worry rise in him for the first time tonight. He doesn't know where she's going with this, but for a moment it scares the living hell out of him.

The blonde looks up at him, a little tear escaping her eye and making its way down her cheek.

"I know that.. that you're just getting used to this new schedule of.. of no football and refocusing your life, and.. and I'm so proud of you." she says, her voice shaky but steady. She looks into his eyes, for the first time really tonight, a slight smile on her lips.

"I'm really so proud of you and excited for what's to come. But.. sometimes, I feel like we're drifting apart, Trav. And.. and it scares me so much.." she murmurs, her voice breaking in the end. And he can't believe it. He can't believe her mind would even go there.

Travis watches her pick her fingers and places his hands on hers, interlocking both of her hands with his.

"Baby, we're not drifting apart. I love you." he says, looking deep into her eyes and she nods for a moment. She's still not happy and he knows it.

"I know. And I love you, too."

He sighs for a moment, hates to see her like this.

"Why do you think we're drifting apart? Where does this come from?" he asks, confusion and worry in his voice. She picks up on that quickly, and in some way it relieves her. He still cares. He really does.

"I think.. I think our relationship has changed, which.. which is normal. I think the time leading up to.. up to getting married is always exciting and magical and then once that's over you sort of fall into this low where.. where things slow down and a marriage begins, and.. and life becomes normal again. And, trust me, I love that. I love just.. living life with you as my husband. It's just.. we never used to fight and we do now. And I know that's normal for couples, but.. we didn't have sex all week, Trav. All week. And.. this has been going on for months now. This.. this is the first time in three years, where..."

He sighs, and she can't tell whether he's angry. All she can feel is him letting go off her hands and it breaks her heart for a moment.

"Tay, I've told you that this has nothing to do with you or us, I.. I'm stressed. I.. I can't do it when my mind is just.. so busy. I-" he stops talking and this time, she's the one coming closer again. She gently places her small hands on his. She knows, she nods.

"Hey, I know. I'm sorry for bringing it up. I just wish I'd know what is going on in your mind, so I can help you. You.. you always used to let me in. I just... I want you to let me in again." she said, got more and more quieter in the end. He looks into her eyes, for real for the first time tonight, and the look he gives her almost breaks her soul. Tears form in his eyes, his chin starts trembling as he starts to speak but stops again for a moment, trying to collect himself. She immediately places her hand on his cheek, won't stop looking at him. This is him opening up. This is him finally opening up.

"I just feel so different, Tay." he then gets out, his face sunk, a first tear meeting her hand on his cheek. "I'm not.. I'm not me anymore since..."

She nods, immediately. She knows what he means and she feels his pain as if it was hers.

"I know, baby." she just says, doesn't argue with him, doesn't force him to be fine again. She's just here, sitting on his lap in the middle of the night, holding his face and listening to him crying.

"Everything feels so meaningless. I used to be.. like.. great at something. Now, I'm mediocre at everything. And.."

"You're not mediocre, Travis." she says, almost mad for a moment that he would talk about him like that. "You're.. funny, charismatic, smart. Things that.. things that people go to acting school for comes to you naturally. That's not.."

"I just.. I just don't think I want to be an actor, Tay." he says then, his eyes desperate and lost, just looking at her for help. She's never heard him say these words and in a way, she never thought they would ever cross his lips. This has always been his plan. Ever since she met him, this was his post-football plan.

"That's okay." she just says, her hand still caressing his stubbly cheek. "Whatever you want to do, I'm with you. I'm not team Chiefs, or team Actor, I'm team Trav. Whatever you want to do, baby, I will support you." she reassures him and he nods, just sinks his head. For a moment, she comes closer to him and kisses his forehead gently. She can feel his grip tighten around her torso. He needs her. He pushes her away when in reality he needs her more than ever.

"I just don't even know what I want to do. I'm just.. lost." he whispers, half to himself, half to her. She swallows. This is officially the lowest she's ever seen him. And it scares her. It scares her to witness the rock of her life to be so helpless and small all of the sudden.

"You're not lost. You're here. With me." she whispers, her hands now on his shoulders, forcing him to look up. She forces a smile to reassure him, then places another kiss on his head.

"You're more than your career, Trav. It's okay to get some distance to it all. Let's take a break together. Let's.. travel somewhere, just you and me." she says, her eyes full of stars for a moment when imagining him and her on adventures together. It reminds her of the summer two years ago when he followed her around Europe for tour. Late night walks through Italy, bike rides at night in Amsterdam, laughing with him at the sausage museum in Germany. He's always been her favorite person in the whole world and she would do anything, take him anywhere, just to see his smile one more time.

"I don't know, Tay. I don't think running away will help me. Or us." he just gets out and it sobers her for a moment.

"Maybe this is it, Trav." she says then, can't believe her brain has gone there. But it did. And she even found the courage to let these words slip her mouth while looking into his eyes and being so close to him.

"What?" he whispers, because she's so close. Their noses are almost touching and he loves to feel her hot skin under his shirt that she's wearing.

"Maybe this is.. this is the time where.. we actually do what we always used to talk about."

"Why do you talk in riddles, Swift?"

She snorts laughing nervously for a moment, her hands playing with his hair, then wiping away one last tear from his cheek.

"Let's make a baby." she says, nervously biting her own lip. He just looks at her in shock and confusion.

"You... what?"

She smiles, takes a deep shaky breath. "I.. I don't know, but.. we always said once you retire and we're married we would start a family. And.. lately, I don't know. I just.. I feel ready, Trav. I'm not scared anymore. I want us to be an actual family. Not just us and the cats. Just.. a real family. And before you, I could never see myself even wanting that. But maybe, you being unsure where to go next, and me just.. trying out stuff in the studio without direction.. I don't know, maybe this is the right time to.."

"Have you absolutely lost your mind?" he just says and for a moment, she feels like she didn't hear him right.

"What?" she says in shock, as he already has let go off her and left the bed, leaving her in between the sheets cold and alone.

"You.. you must have absolutely lost your mind for saying this." he mumbles, angrier than she's ever witnessed him, pacing up and down their bedroom, trying to make sense of what she just said. "What.. Trav, why.."

"I'm.. I'm sitting here, in your arms like.. like a goddamn looser. Crying like a little girl, telling you how lost I'm feeling and.. and you tell me this is the right time for me to become a father? Are you.. are you even serious right now?"

She looks at him in shock, pain swelling in her chest and tears filling her eyes once more.

"I don't see why you wouldn't be a good father, Trav."

"That's not the fucking point!" he yells at her and for the first time in her life, she gets scared. Scared of his tone, scared of his anger, scared of how unexpected he reacted. It's quite the opposite of how he used to make her feel. Quite the opposite of the familiarity and emotional safety she used to know when it came to him.

"Stop yelling at me. I'm scared." she mumbles with a shaky voice and he just stops wandering around the room, his hands covering his eyes. He nods.

"I'm sorry for yelling." he says then and she can hear in his voice that he's tearing up. She's shocked. This is not her husband. This is not the person she knows and loves so deeply.

"Tay, this.. I just can't believe you would think that this is.."

"Why not? Why is it so fucking wrong of me to suggest this? I'm almost thirty-seven. I can't.. I won't be able to get pregnant forever. And you know that. And.." Taylor is the one getting loud and emotional now, almost unable to stay in bed. She's shaking, her entire body feeling the anxiety of this moment. This was their plan. Why is he not sticking to their plan.

"Trav, I know you're struggling at the moment. And you know I'm here for you. But.. your reaction to me suggesting this, is just.. shocking." she says, a first tear rolling down her cheek. She swallows, looks at him with begging eyes. Begging for him to become her everything again. Begging for him to fall on his knees, apologize, and tell her he can't wait for them to have a baby. That he was wrong. That he's just scared.

But none of that happens.

He just sits down on her bedside, still unable to look at her. But he has calmed down. His voice quiet and steady now.

"Tay, you know I love you. You know I want to have kids with you. I just... I'm not ready to become a father right now when my career is just.. a fucking mess. This is the first season I won't be playing. I have no clue where I'll be a year from now. And.."

"Are you ever going to be ready to have kids with me then?" she says, tears streaming down her face. She can't believe this. She can't believe he wants her to keep waiting. She can't believe he won't choose their dreams, their plans, their family. He chooses the gods of his bluest days and leaves her alone. With their dreams, their plans, their little family that she's been day dreaming about for four years.

"I want to, Tay. It's just.. how can I take care of a human when I can't even take care of myself at the moment."

She looks at him, nods. She presses her lips together, trying to suppress her tears, her anger.

She's heard these words before.

"I didn't mean to yell, earlier. That was.. that was out of line. I know you.. you mean well, but.."

"It's.. it's fine." she lies, slowly pulling the blanket from her legs and leaving the bed. "I just.. I need.. some air for a moment.."

Travis just looks at her and sighs as she leaves the bedroom. His head sinks in his hands and he feels hot tears streaming down his face. He knows he fucked up. He knows that his anger at himself just did more damage to the only person he's ever loved than he would have ever intended.

To be continued.

#taylor swift #taylor swift fanfiction #fanfiction #ttpd #fanfic #travis kelce #writing #seven feet in the swing

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petit-etoile · 1 year ago

Note

A drabble idea for thee! I always thought when Tav/the MC steps closer during the Mirror Scene with Astarion that they were going to very gently touch his face while they describe what they see to him and he'd be doing his very best not to break into pieces since he's never had someone do that for him, to touch him with so much kindness without expecting anything from him in return.

my heart (part of you lives here)

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 1,237 content warnings: i had this song by mitski on repeat the entire time & i fear that it is a mandatory listen other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, developing relationship, getting together, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia be added to the taglist here

summary:

‘What?’ Astarion asks, voice soft.

‘I see you,’ you tell him. ‘Let me be your mirror. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.’

You step forward and stare into his eyes, taking in every detail of his face. Astarion may not have aged physically since turning, but he certainly lives a life worth telling. You can see who he is by every detail that has been etched on his face by years of service. His pale, full eyebrows. His round, honest eyes. You must’ve caught him off-guard. He only looks like this when he’s caught unaware.

Carefully, without moving too quickly, you slide both of your hands over the shape of his cheeks, holding him still. You can tell he wants to run away — His eyes dart back and forth all over the place, looking anywhere but at you — but he stays still at your tender touch, eyebrows pulling together in concern. You rub your thumbs against his cheekbones encouragingly, tilting his head from side to side to appraise his features. You hum appreciatively and touch the mole near his eye tenderly.

‘What?’ Astarion asks, voice soft.

Astarion doesn’t mean to do it. He drops his haughty façade in exchange for something more vulnerable, chin dropping so he can meet your eyes. You slide your thumbs against the dark circles beneath his eyes and smile. He scowls immediately, but it doesn’t frighten you. Perhaps it should.

‘I see you,’ you tell him. ‘Let me be your mirror. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.’

Your voice shakes slightly. You both pretend it doesn’t.

‘ — What do you see when you look at me?’ Astarion asks.

You’re a little distracted by how his teeth peek out from behind his lips when he talks, but you steady yourself for his sake. You wonder if you should move your hands away. You don’t want to. You like looking at him.

‘You have strong, piercing eyes,’ you say quietly. ‘When you’re not as hungry, they shine brighter. When you are, they’re darker.’

His lips press into a firm line. ‘What else?’

The words slip out faster than you can think about them. ‘You’re pretty.’

‘Pretty?’

‘Your eyes crinkle when you laugh,’ you say, swallowing. ‘Laughing suits you. It lights up your whole face. Laughing makes you look your age.’

Astarion snorts, but it isn’t derisive. For all his love of attention, the more you study his face, the reclusive he seems to get. His eyes aren’t so penetrative now, and they’re more round the more you indulge him in his vanity.

‘What else?’ he pesters.

You slide your hands lower until you’re cradling his jaw. You push your thumb beneath his bottom lip and watch as he pouts. You’re trying so hard to focus, but he smells so handsomely and he’s so intoxicating that you struggle to keep yourself grounded.

‘You have a dangerous smile,’ you tell him. ‘Sometimes when you grin, one side of your mouth lifts higher than the other. Your teeth show, but it’s not… scary to me. You have a nice smile and… and… your jaw is very nice.’

Astarion snorts again and rolls his eyes, but he no longer seems achingly desperate for a perfect description. He grabs your wrists and leans in closer, showing you one side of his face and then the other, preening for your compliments and attention. He draws you in without even intending to. You stumble closer, and now that you’re worried, you try to move your hands out of your intense fear they might get sweaty from you being so nervous. He holds you still.

‘You’ve practiced looking disheveled,’ you whisper, throat tightening. ‘Your hair is…’ You change your mind. ‘Do a spin for me. Let me see the whole picture. Please.’

Astarion laughs — a loud babbling brook kind of laughter that makes you dizzy. He releases you then in order to twirl for you demurely. He looks at you from beneath his thick eyelashes and flutters them, biting shyly at his lip. It’s so very rehearsed that you can’t help but laugh as well, looking away. You touch your own cheeks and nearly cringe at how warm they are.

‘You’re very beautiful, but — ’

‘But!’ he interrupts.

‘But,’ you insist, ‘you’re Astarion!’

He gasps and looks positively debauched. He presses a hand over his chest and pretends to be wounded, winding down to the chair next to his little table. He waves you over and insists that you join him on the floor, and then it’s his turn to lean forward inquisitively. One small mistake and your noses would bump into one another. You wish a foul wind would blow and knock him over so that you could kiss him without embarrassing yourself.

You cross your legs and lounge on his decorative cushion, stretching out your spine and failing to dislodge a rather painful knot you can feel forming in your lower back from all the climbing and roaming. You distract yourself with a loose thread on his rug and try to smooth it back down in the crevice where it goes.

‘Now what did you mean by that, my dear?’ Astarion asks, nudging you with his foot. ‘That I’m Astarion.’

You close your eyes. ‘Oh, you know that you’re pretty,’ you say, grabbing his ankle before he can flee. ‘I’ve seen you bloody and muddy, and wet and ragged, and you’re still very pretty.’

‘Prettier than Shadowheart?’

‘So you think Shadowheart is pretty?’

Astarion whines and jostles his leg free from your grip. ‘Forgive me if I fish for attention,’ he complains. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve had this much fun.’

‘I think you’re the prettiest,’ you say with a shrug. ‘Prettier than anyone else in camp, except maybe Withers.’

You’re grateful that Astarion’s mood seems to have turned over. He’s not the easiest to always get along with and sometimes he’s so broody that you’re not sure how to navigate his moods, but you’re learning.

You both talk and laugh for a little longer about whatever comes to mind — You talk about Shadowheart’s make-up and Karlach’s morning workout routine, and how Wyll always stretches during daybreak and that it’s cute Lae’zel tries so hard to join him in order to entice him, and that Scratch permanently chooses to wake up Gale before anyone else is relieving because it means you get to sleep for a few hours more. You only realize how late it is when you turn your head and notice everyone has snuffed out their lanterns and candles. You bite the inside of your cheek and mourn the fact that you must go so soon.

‘I should go,’ you say ruefully.

‘You should stay,’ Astarion disagrees. ‘Come, stay in my tent for the night. You should get to use my things since I’m the one who forced you to stay awake past your bedtime. That bedroll looks awfully uncomfortable from here.’

‘Where will you sleep?’ you ask, suddenly reserved.

‘Next to you,’ he says, ‘or outside if you’d prefer. I could keep watch.’

‘ — next to me is fine,’ you tell him.

‘Good,’ Astarion says, smiling. ‘Let me be selfish if it means I get to look at you. I’ll return the favor, you know. Let you know about your eyes and smile next long rest. It’s the least I could do.’

You’re too nervous to sleep that night and he knows it. But come the next long rest, Astarion tells you every detail about your face and you understand, with overwhelming gravity, what you have done for him.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x oc #from ，carcosa .#my fic #anonymous #* a thousand lives，and one #WHAT IF I SAID #THIS ONE WAS SO SELF-INDULGENT #I WAS TWIRLING MY HAIR SWINGING MY FEET GIGGLING #the mirror scene has me so down bad i can't even lie about it

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