You're biased, [ Alistair says, quite serious, and then shifts to less serious sing-songing: ] because you love me.
[ He'll be cooler about that someday. In his defense, no one's ever told him so before. At least not anyone who meant it. Also in his defense, he returns to seriousness immediately, arm wrapping firm around Zevran's ribs. ] I'd have liked her, too. Or. Well. I'd probably have been afraid of her. But after that.
[ It is enough, that little twist of sing-song, that little lilt to the word that lifts some of the weight. That gives way to some of the sentiment that terrifies him almost as much as the thought of losing Alistair before he was ready.
It will always be terrifying, he will never be ready. ]
[ Still light, however seriously he means it; he'll save the serious tones and solemn puppy eyes for when one or both of them is dying instead of maybe-probably-living. ]
What? You were terrifying. [ False. ] Still are. [ Less false. But Alistair isn't terrified, no. Alistair is drumming his fingers cheerfully on Zevran's bare shoulder blade. ] I'll be sleeping with one eye open.
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[ He'll be cooler about that someday. In his defense, no one's ever told him so before. At least not anyone who meant it. Also in his defense, he returns to seriousness immediately, arm wrapping firm around Zevran's ribs. ] I'd have liked her, too. Or. Well. I'd probably have been afraid of her. But after that.
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[ It is enough, that little twist of sing-song, that little lilt to the word that lifts some of the weight. That gives way to some of the sentiment that terrifies him almost as much as the thought of losing Alistair before he was ready.
It will always be terrifying, he will never be ready. ]
As you were so afraid of me?
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[ Still light, however seriously he means it; he'll save the serious tones and solemn puppy eyes for when one or both of them is dying instead of maybe-probably-living. ]
What? You were terrifying. [ False. ] Still are. [ Less false. But Alistair isn't terrified, no. Alistair is drumming his fingers cheerfully on Zevran's bare shoulder blade. ] I'll be sleeping with one eye open.
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[ He snorts, peeling himself away enough to fetch his needle and resume his work on that last line of his ribs- while still in Alistair's lap.
No homo. ]
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