Red eyes flash brightly in the otherwise dimly lit room. The small lamp was the only source of light, yet it only seemed to make the shadows darker.

"Hello, darling. I thought you would never come." Astarion's eloquent, sensuous voice carried from the darkness, my eyes searched the black expanse for his figure to no avail.

"Come out of the shadows, darling." The whisper is barely audible to my own ears, but I know perfectly well that he can hear even the hastened beating of my heart in my chest.

A flash of movement.

"Come into the shadows, lover." He half-steps into the light, and only a portion of his pale, half-dressed body is illuminated by the lantern. His mouth a devilish grin as his arm stretches in front of him, hand open, beckoning me.

Unable to resist, I cross the five steps into his embrace. His arms form a hard shell around me. His breath rustles my hair, and his cool fingers brush it back, exposing what we both know he truly wants me for. Content with his intentions, I lean my head to the side, and close my eyes, a grin spreading across my lips as anticipation flutters low in my gut for what is about to happen.

"You know I love you, Tav," he whispers, one hand caressing my shoulder, the other, my hip, holding me in place.

His fangs pierce my flesh and I know that this love is what we cried, bled - murdered - for.

I sit up in my bedroll, gasping for air.

My hand instantly reached for my neck. I pull it away expecting it to be painted with my blood, it is clean. I glance around but only see my four traveling companions asleep in their own bedrolls next to the embers of what was a blazing fire hours ago. Further inspection reveals that one of my companions is missing.

I look around the dimly lit woods searching for a sign of where they may have gone. A faint light flows between trees to my right.

"Well, that's either them or a murderer," I mutter to myself as I exit my bag, expose myself to the cool night air, and slide my boots on, not bothering to lace them.

Years of training have taught me the art of silent-stepping. I know I am inaudible.

I come to a clearing with a single torch that was shoved into the ground to keep it aflame but hands-free.

I frown and scan the trees.

Warm hands cover my eyes from behind, "Easy there, soldier. Who do you think you're trying to sneak up on?" Karlach pulls her hands away and I grin.

"You're getting so much better at being stealthy," I turn to look at her, she beams down at me, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

She pretend-punches my shoulder, "I had a good teacher."

I lazily plop to a sitting position on the ground, and pat the soft dirt next to me, "What are you doing out here?"

"Well, the girl of my dreams needed some muscle to help her kill her ex-boyfriend."

I know she meant it as a joke, but guilt stings my chest and pricks the corners of my eyes. I look away and my vision blurs.

"Shit, I'm sorry. That was crass." She grabs my hand and holds it to her warm chest. I remember how that same chest felt years ago when we were all first thrown together due to circumstance. Before we had that infernal engine decommissioned. I remember the first time I hugged her, and how guilty I felt I couldn't give her more.

"But not untrue," I whisper.

"That doesn't make it okay to say," she pauses, "What are you doing up anyway?"

I sigh and gently pull my hand away, patting hers before I lean back, hands clasped as a pillowed barrier between my head and the dirt. The night sky reminds me of my insignificance, and that brings me some comfort.

"I had another dream."

"About him again? Did you see anything useful?"

I shake my head, "It was too dark. But he has to be there, it's the only place he can be. And he's not the type to hide. He wouldn't stoop to such a level."

"Fucking pretty boy," Karlach mutters in what I assume was supposed to be under her breath, but she doesn't exactly exude subtlety.

"Fucking pretty boy," I repeat with another sigh.

I look over at her and memorize the arch of other brows, her nose, the depth of her eyes, the curve of her full horn - I frown at the broken one. Not because it's broken, but because of why it's broken.

We could all be dead tomorrow.

Astarion could have us dead with only a toe through the entrance to Baulder's Gate.

I reach for Karlach's hand once more.