Graphics Design Is Not My Passion

Who would want someone like you?

That was a question Astarion had asked himself into the mirrors that reflected everyone, everything but him, more than once. Though he could not see his expression, he knew it wasn't a pleasant one, based on the reactions countless others had given him.

While he had won his body (among countless others) back from Cazador, some part of him remained trapped yet.

Perhaps it was a part of him that had never grown up. The part that died in his brain with his family. Either way, he found himself looping back to the same question yet again.

Who would want someone like you?

Who would want a vampire?

And- Even those who did, they didn't truly want a vampire, he believed- And if they did, they wanted a master, not a spawn. Someone to turn them, give them the "gift" of unending life, eternal youth, the curse of unending hunger. They had mixed stories of incubi and succubi with vampires, with abused spawns like himself- No, they didn't want a traumatized vampire. They wanted this fantastical, idealized, sexualized, fictional figure.

One who could save you from the evils of the world at a cost, one who would bleed you within an inch of your life and promptly make love to you, one who would show no signs of the trauma of death, being forcibly brought back from it, from being used for over two-hundred years, one who wasn't him.

No one wanted someone like him. He who was skittish of any form of contact, he who shut down when he was touched or looked at wrong, he who held resentment for those who didn't help him when he needed it most, he who couldn't bring himself to show his true emotions, no, no one could, no one but-

But you.

You, who had broken through his walls on this night. As he, through sobs, rambled and ranted about how burned he was, how lonely he was, how should he find a partner, they would have to be separated by the sun and moon or change for him, how for him, the relationship would be for but a breath, and he would have to, one day, say goodbye.

You, who was so gentle with him, taking his hand into yours, leaning in so he had someone to cry upon, someone who was so kind, even when he felt he did not deserve it, even when he truly didn't deserve it.

Through everything, you were there.