[And it blots as he hesitates. He hates doing this over the notebooks, in no small part because it's so damned hard to read Astarion's emotions right now. His lover might be scoffing playfully, offering him that sweetly puzzled look he gets whenever Leto is in a contrary mood. It's certainly possible; this isn't exactly a traumatic issue. But Leto cannot shake the feeling there's more to it than that.
Not like there's some deep, dark secret related to drawing cocks, but . . . mmph. It's something there, he thinks. Something about competition, no matter what. Something about sulking like a child whenever he loses, when Leto knows damned well that any slave quickly learns there's no room in life for things like fairness. And something to do, maybe, with being the favorite . . . or being one of seven.
Maybe. Maybe not. And he hates not knowing if he's reading too much into it or catching a thread.]
Yes. And no.
The passion and the bitterness I understand. But less so when the challenge could not matter less.
And, [hmm,] I do not mind you fussing, so long as you know I will tolerate it only to a point, and certainly not curb my own competitiveness. Make Gods know I sulk and fuss over things too.
But I simply wish to be sure it isn't something more that I'm missing.
no subject
[And it blots as he hesitates. He hates doing this over the notebooks, in no small part because it's so damned hard to read Astarion's emotions right now. His lover might be scoffing playfully, offering him that sweetly puzzled look he gets whenever Leto is in a contrary mood. It's certainly possible; this isn't exactly a traumatic issue. But Leto cannot shake the feeling there's more to it than that.
Not like there's some deep, dark secret related to drawing cocks, but . . . mmph. It's something there, he thinks. Something about competition, no matter what. Something about sulking like a child whenever he loses, when Leto knows damned well that any slave quickly learns there's no room in life for things like fairness. And something to do, maybe, with being the favorite . . . or being one of seven.
Maybe. Maybe not. And he hates not knowing if he's reading too much into it or catching a thread.]
Yes. And no.
The passion and the bitterness I understand. But less so when the challenge could not matter less.
And, [hmm,] I do not mind you fussing, so long as you know I will tolerate it only to a point, and certainly not curb my own competitiveness.
MakeGods know I sulk and fuss over things too.But I simply wish to be sure it isn't something more that I'm missing.