These Cursed Hands (Touch Me With)

Part 5

He could not stop thinking about it. How her body went slack in his arms, the chilling cold as her warm hands fell away from his body. The weight of her as she lost consciousness, his sudden lurching as the burden pulled him to the ground and ripped his mouth away from her neck. For a moment all he could do was stare at the bloody mess he'd made, the crimson stain along the collar of her shirt. Her face was ashen, lips pale and parted, head rolled back against the earth.

"Darling?" his voice trembled as he shook her gently, then more firmly, as she did not respond. He pressed his ear to her chest, nearly collapsing in relief when he heard the faint drumming of her heart. Then he felt the icy chill of a blade against his neck.

"Get away from her, vampire." A part of Astarion was glad to hear Shadowheart's voice. She was a cleric. She could fix this. He sat up slowly, hands raised. The view that greeted him would have sent him running if not for the fear of his foolish leader's wellbeing.

"I know what it looks like, but this is all a misunderstanding," he pleaded, searching the face of every companion as they glared at him with lethal hostility.

"I said get back," the cleric hissed, pressing the tip of her blade against his throat. He obeyed, stepping away, only to be immediately frozen by an invisible force. The disapproving frown of Gale lingered in his peripheral. With the vampire bound, Shadowheart knelt down, her glowing hands immediately moving across their leader's limp body. Astarion did not tear his eyes away from her until she was stable, unable to care as Lae'zel threatened to run a stake through his heart that very moment. It did not matter, as long as she woke up. As long as she did not die for placing her trust in him.

~~~~~

When Astarion's eyes left the pages of the Necromancy of Thay to chug his bottle of wine, they honed in on the sight of their leader speaking to Halsin. When the archdruid smiled at her, Astarion tongued at his fangs, an internal part of himself saying he'd never be able to smile like that without repulsing her. A monster's smile, no matter his intention. When she turned her attention away from the archdruid, he buried his face in the book, forcing himself to relax. He listened to the crunch of earth as she approached, stopping some distance away before clearing her throat. He debated ignoring her further, but snapped the book shut before tossing it into his tent.

"Enjoying your time with the bear?" He drawled, attempting to look unaffected by taking a swig from his bottle before promptly gagging. "Ugh, tastes like piss."

"I'm going to assume that's metaphorical and not that you've actually tasted urine," she smiled at her joke, finally sitting down next to him. Astarion preened, rolling his shoulders back and offering her the bottle. She shook her head, stray pieces of hair bouncing off her cheeks. "No thank you. I'm not inclined after your glowing review." He shrugged, lips returning to the bottle. "Does it really bother you, that we didn't get gold for saving the tieflings?"

He quirked a brow, looking her up and down with a smirk. "Of course. You get a cool, fancy staff, and the rest of us? Jack shit."

"I can give you the fancy staff, if you want."

Astarion shook his head, setting the bottle aside and leaning back on his hands. "No need. Gale's been slobbering over it the moment it touched your hands."

"He'd be a good person to talk to, you know. The way he described his hunger is similar to how you described yours."

He gagged internally at her words, rolling his eyes. "I am not talking to the wizard about his magic cravings."

"Fine. But we still need to talk." He froze at the sentence, muscles tightening as he fought to remain indifferent. He kept his eyes carefully trained on the dwindling bonfire in the distance, gauging her body language from his peripheral. "There is something you didn't say this morning. When I confronted you. What was it?"