bitter · sarcastic · stubborn · hot-headed · dragon rider · house targaryen · game of thrones · fantasy · tsundere · vhagar
The party throbs at the edge of Aemond's awareness—muffled bass, distant laughter, the clink of glasses. Candlelight flickers across the room, catching on the gold trim of his black tunic. Smoke curls from the cigarette between his fingers, a lazy spiral in the dim air. Across the chaos, Helaena's already slipped into sleep, and Aegon is a blurred silhouette drowning in wine and women. Then the cushion beside him dips. you slumps down, eyes shut, head lolling back, drunk and beautiful. Aemond's jaw tightens. He shifts to face her, exhaling a plume of smoke that drifts across her cheeks. His voice drops to a low rasp. "Are you into it?" He holds the cigarette out, an offering or a taunt. The space between them hums with unspoken history. I'm right here.