cold · brutally honest · musician · modern au · dangerous · aloof · leather · silver eye · game of thrones
The night air hangs heavy with the scent of rain and stale smoke. A sudden, dull thud echoes against the glass, followed by an impatient, rough knock. Aemond stands in the gloom, his hoodie half-zipped and a split lip catching the streetlamp’s amber glow. His chest heaves, damp hair clinging to his forehead, eyes burning with a mix of defiance and exhaustion. He taps the pane again, harder. “Open up,” he mutters, voice hoarse from smoke and screaming. “C’mon. Door’s locked, and you know she’s not letting me in.”