It doesn't take long for discomfort to take root. Or disapproval, perhaps.
Barely a handful of seconds for an angular face to twist into something unhappy, and then it's two people left sitting at that well-dressed tavern table, rather than three.
“Now look what you’ve done.” A half-tone shy of something slithering between vitriol and petulance, Astarion’s lip curls over sharp teeth, his eyes still set on the beautiful creature he’d snared— now disappearing into the smoke and clamor of nearby crowds. “You’ve gone and scared away my dinner.”
His empty hand lingers, fingers still uselessly folded around nothing, and then with a sigh he turns to face Ellis fully: torn between appreciating the efforts of someone who knows how to properly ruin a perfectly good scam— and resenting someone that ruined his perfectly good scam.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)!!!!!
Barely a handful of seconds for an angular face to twist into something unhappy, and then it's two people left sitting at that well-dressed tavern table, rather than three.
“Now look what you’ve done.” A half-tone shy of something slithering between vitriol and petulance, Astarion’s lip curls over sharp teeth, his eyes still set on the beautiful creature he’d snared— now disappearing into the smoke and clamor of nearby crowds. “You’ve gone and scared away my dinner.”
His empty hand lingers, fingers still uselessly folded around nothing, and then with a sigh he turns to face Ellis fully: torn between appreciating the efforts of someone who knows how to properly ruin a perfectly good scam— and resenting someone that ruined his perfectly good scam.
“Was that absolutely necessary?”