"Life is pretty damned slippery that way," Dante's tone was soft, matching Astarion's, and it worked with the comfortable closeness in the less than cheerful revelations of Dante's childhood, "it's rare to find something to hold onto, harder to keep it."

All the people that slid through Dante's hands made him reluctant to form bonds, but he still felt responsible for the people in his life that were casualties due to proximity. Friends. Family of friends.

Watching and caring from a distance was the safest thing for them, even if he did want to be part of their lives. Burying himself in the work, arming himself with wit and a carefree presentation was more for his own benefit.

"I've got you to protect me," Dante said, the smile returning to his voice as he turned the conversation towards Astarion, "a knight on a white charger."

Burying his face in the soft, nicely kempt curls Dante allowed himself to consider it.

"...different for both of us, right?"