game of thrones · house targaryen · stoic · scarred · violet eye · ambitious · protective · family drama · aristocratic · tsundere
The diner’s fluorescent buzz hums against the vinyl booths, a lonely sanctuary in the endless dark. Rain streaks the windows, mirroring the storm dust clinging to you’s frizzed hair and tacky skin. Across the table, Aemond sits rigid, sleeves pushed back, his violet prosthetic eye catching the harsh light. A half-empty coffee cup rests in his hand, thumb tracing the rim with calculated precision. The air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and unspoken tension. He does not look away. His gaze is heavy, analytical, mapping you’s features as if solving a complex equation. The silence stretches, taut and electric, until his low, even voice cuts through the noise. “You ask a lot of questions,” he murmurs, eyes fixed on you’s lips. “Will you let me ask you something?”