31.Fragmented Memories

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I wake from a peaceful sleep for once. One that has soothed my aching bones and quieted my turbulent mind, even if only for a night. 

I stir languidly on my spot on the ground, my heavy lids protest to open against the comfort of my bedroll. It is especially comfortable this morning -- especially warm and inviting. I wish to bury my face deeper into its downy, silken caress for a few more moments of blissful sleep. Until it dawns on me that my bedroll by the campfire is neither downy nor silken. Moreover, the rays of morning sun are not beating down on my skin as they should be, not chasing away the coolness of the night with their warmth.

My eyes fly open as memories from last night come flooding back to me. Astarion, drunk on bears blood, pulling me to the ground to lay next to him. And I, too tired to get up after... I... don't tell me I really fell asleep in his tent last night?!

I shoot up on the soft pile of pillows, wide eyes darting around, my hazy vision coming into focus on the familiar red walls of Astarion's tent draped all around me. I can't believe I fell asleep here last night... I can't believe I fell asleep in his arms. The memory sends a shock wave of warmth coursing through my veins, But as I look around now, there is no Astarion next to me where he fell asleep last night. Though I can still sense his presence nearby. He's standing just outside the entrance of the tent, likely reading his novel as he does each morning and evening. I can hear the bustling sounds of camp too; my companions all gathered together around the epicenter for breakfast. They're laughing and chatting amongst each other as they prepare for another long day on the road. I should be out there with them not... not here.

Godsdamn it Astarion! I grit my teeth, cursing  under my breath. 

He had broken my resolve again last night with those pleading little puppy-dog eyes, and he didn't even bother to wake me in the morning before the others. Now, when they see me come out of his tent they'll think he and I... did something. Although I guess we already did do something, so it wouldn't exactly be a misunderstanding. Still, I'd rather not have everyone in camp believing I was so easily lured by the shallow advances of a pretty man whom I've known for barely a couple of weeks... even if that is exactly what happened.

I push out a long, steady sigh, rubbing the anxiety from my temples in small, circular motions. Maybe I can still sneak out without the others noticing, I think to myself. I know it's a feeble notion, but it's the only one I have.

I rise to my feet with apprehension, my legs still sluggish with sleep as I make my way to the front entrance of the tent. I hesitate for a moment just behind opening, biting my lower lip nervously before my fingers finally move to find the edge of the flap and slowly peel it back. Just a sliver. Just enough for one eye to peer outside. The first thing I see is Astarion's back turned to me, book in hand as I predicted. In the distance my companions are all crowded around the roaring camp fire, seemingly too focused in on each other and their food to let their prying eyes wonder this way. 

And thankfully for me, our resident loner Astarion pitched his tent a good distance away from the main bustle of activity like always, so I should be able to sneak right out without ever being noticed by our fellow companions. Easy enough. Now... if I could just quietly slip past the rogue elf himself.

I can do this, I think to myself, even as uncertainty bubbles low in my stomach. I can do this...

Silently I push through the flap of the tent, and make myself as flat as I can with my back pushed against the thin fabric wall. Warm rays of sun trickle down onto my skin as I slip out, and I have to squint my eyes against the light as my vision works to adjust to it. The toe of my boot makes no sound against the dirt as I step outside. The air arrests in my lungs, I don't even dare to breathe. I am as quiet as a mouse. Or so I think.

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