[Usually Cyril would think that disheveled Dorian was hot, but now it just makes him feel concerned. He manages to keep his expression light, though, too worried showing too much of that concern will cause Dorian to retreat.]
[ Leilani's name makes his chest tighten, and it takes entirely too much energy to not let it effect him. Dorian manages somehow, waving his hand in dismissal. ]
Her concern is admirable, but unnecessary.
[ It makes him want to go to her and apologize, but they've moved on past the moment, and he'd only muck it up even more. Instead, drinking until he can't think so much sounds like a marvelous idea. ]
Would you like to come in? [ He moves aside to let Cyril in, draping against the door. A suggestion of more to come. ]
[ Dorian allows the door to close, following behind and offering the bottle of wine to him. ]
Friends. [ The word sounds surreal to his ears, and it feels like an echo. At the very least, he still has Cyril, doesn't he? Nevermind that he was unfairly cruel and pushed Leilani away. Perhaps he is a few sheets to the wind, but that's what makes the most logical sense to him. ]
[He comes closer and takes the wine, but doesn't do anything with it just yet.]
Or so I'm told. I didn't have many who meant anything before the Inquisition.
[He knows Dorian has often expressed the same feelings, and perhaps relating can help, though he isn't entirely sure how to navigate a situation like this.]
[ Dorian huffs, shaking his head. He's not entirely certain what he wants. Mostly, he'd like to drink some more, but he can't exactly do that with company. He would much rather not be a sloppy drunk in front of Cyril. Instead, he simply leans against him, resting his head upon Cyril's shoulder. ]
[ It's not an entirely bad place to be, all things considered. He could be drinking himself into a stupor. Alone. Perhaps not the best choice, but he's so remarkably good at it by now.
An arm slides around him and he returns the favor. Yes, this is favorable for now. ]
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Leilani called me. She was worried about you.
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Her concern is admirable, but unnecessary.
[ It makes him want to go to her and apologize, but they've moved on past the moment, and he'd only muck it up even more. Instead, drinking until he can't think so much sounds like a marvelous idea. ]
Would you like to come in? [ He moves aside to let Cyril in, draping against the door. A suggestion of more to come. ]
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I think the day an Inquisitor Lavellan stops worrying about their friends will be a sad day indeed.
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Friends. [ The word sounds surreal to his ears, and it feels like an echo. At the very least, he still has Cyril, doesn't he? Nevermind that he was unfairly cruel and pushed Leilani away. Perhaps he is a few sheets to the wind, but that's what makes the most logical sense to him. ]
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[He comes closer and takes the wine, but doesn't do anything with it just yet.]
Or so I'm told. I didn't have many who meant anything before the Inquisition.
[He knows Dorian has often expressed the same feelings, and perhaps relating can help, though he isn't entirely sure how to navigate a situation like this.]
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[ None, by his calculations. ..Yes, he's definitely drunk, now. Dorian sits on the bed, watching in the floor that he finds fascinating. ]
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[He offers. He tilts his head a bit, trying to look at Dorian's face but in an unobtrusive way.]
I'm yours for as long as we're both here.
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I..Thank you.
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I will be here any time you need me, to offer a distraction, to talk, to sit here in silence. You tell me what you want.
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This is sufficient.
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Then this is where I'll be.
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An arm slides around him and he returns the favor. Yes, this is favorable for now. ]