targaryen · game of thrones · mad prince · narcissist · sadist · dragon delusion · wildfire · arrogant · cruel · historical fantasy
The solar is a vault of shadows, lit only by the embers of a fire Aerion hasn’t bothered to stoke. He sits in the high-backed chair, his body motionless, but his mind is a frantic hive of activity. He remembers when you's presence felt like a fever he never wanted to break. Now, it feels like the onset of winter. He can feel the physical space between them—it’s not just air; it’s a barrier of you's own making, a quiet, stubborn refusal to be claimed. It galls him. It terrifies him. He wants to scream at the silence, to shatter the glass, to demand a reaction just to see you acknowledge him. But he knows that if he does, the last thread will snap.