A less timid smile crosses her lips when he lights up lanterns with his own arcane magic, her gaze meeting his.
"Nicely done," she says softly, and steps into the dusty space, taking care to close the door behind them. There, now - privacy.
"You can almost forget the state of the world outside down here." She rolls her shoulders, the little pinpricks from the previous night all but gone, her knots mostly formed from tension. Nerves. She is...nervous to be here alone, with Astarion. Her heartbeat races and the swarm of butterflies in her stomach flutters incessantly. The door to the this dingy place closes, and it is as if there's a mental barrier between whatever is happening outside and what is happening here.
She does allow herself so little time to enjoy the simple human pleasures in life. A crush, or desires, or any stronger emotions than that feel so out of place from her dusty spell scrolls and tomes to study, and yet - Hermione did initiate herself in the arts of bards, after all, for a very good reason. Inside that chest beats not just a feral sort of temper, but a passionate heart.
She just needs to take the first step, really, to let it shine.
"You'd think I would be used by now to how beautiful you look in candlelight," she says, taking a step into the room and closer to him.
no subject
"Nicely done," she says softly, and steps into the dusty space, taking care to close the door behind them. There, now - privacy.
"You can almost forget the state of the world outside down here." She rolls her shoulders, the little pinpricks from the previous night all but gone, her knots mostly formed from tension. Nerves. She is...nervous to be here alone, with Astarion. Her heartbeat races and the swarm of butterflies in her stomach flutters incessantly. The door to the this dingy place closes, and it is as if there's a mental barrier between whatever is happening outside and what is happening here.
She does allow herself so little time to enjoy the simple human pleasures in life. A crush, or desires, or any stronger emotions than that feel so out of place from her dusty spell scrolls and tomes to study, and yet - Hermione did initiate herself in the arts of bards, after all, for a very good reason. Inside that chest beats not just a feral sort of temper, but a passionate heart.
She just needs to take the first step, really, to let it shine.
"You'd think I would be used by now to how beautiful you look in candlelight," she says, taking a step into the room and closer to him.