[His gaze flicks up to Gale's face at those three little words. He's heard them before, but never quite like that. Gale doesn't need to clarify (or does he...?), but he does and it nearly turns into rambling. Astarion watches him, somehow more wary than a moment ago. But it isn't the time bomb in Gale's chest that causes it. For a moment he doesn't know which is worse: being needed or being forgotten. Perhaps they're both terrible in their own ways.

He turns his attention back to what Gale is doing to his arm. It seems to be a far better place for both of them to focus.]

Remind me to ask for a massage before flinging myself into some stupid danger or another. Since it seems to keep happening with alarming regularity.