you only feel it when it’s lost (gettin’ through still has a cost) (слэш)

Astarion is quiet, when all is said and done.
Casmir keeps a careful eye on him as they make their trek back to the inn, somewhere they can rest and heal. Astarion is unsteady on his feet, floaty, his ruby eyes glassy. As if he were miles and miles away from here, as if he were still in that Gods damned castle. He’s swallowed by Casmir’s undershirt, the only thing the tiefling had on hand that he could spare for him. Astarion’s pale face is stained copper with blood, clumps stuck in his hair and caught in his flickering lashes.
 
(Or, Casmir takes care of Astarion after Cazador’s death.)