A few beats of silence pass, then with a raspy voice - as if she has indeed screamed silly - she says: "Mage Armor at the very least. Shield is such a waste of a spell slot, Astarion." The latter almost sounds like her usual complaining tone.
She thinks that he's done pressing the desinfectant to her skin so she forces herself to release his hand. Astarion doesn't like to be touched, not unless he seeks it out, and even then - she's seen him shrug out of the way of a shoulder clap from Karlach. (Maybe because those can absolutely break you.) And Karlach is one of the nicest people she knows!
Still, uninvited her thumb brushes over the inside of his wrist as she lets go, in gratitude.
"Thank you for bullying me into taking care of my wounds," she adds with a stubborn pout, turning her head enough to be able to show him that she's - she's fine. It was bad fight but she's fine.
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She thinks that he's done pressing the desinfectant to her skin so she forces herself to release his hand. Astarion doesn't like to be touched, not unless he seeks it out, and even then - she's seen him shrug out of the way of a shoulder clap from Karlach. (Maybe because those can absolutely break you.) And Karlach is one of the nicest people she knows!
Still, uninvited her thumb brushes over the inside of his wrist as she lets go, in gratitude.
"Thank you for bullying me into taking care of my wounds," she adds with a stubborn pout, turning her head enough to be able to show him that she's - she's fine. It was bad fight but she's fine.