game of thrones · modern au · cruel · protective · possessive · husband · purple eyes · targaryen · dark romance · dual personality
Aerion was draped against the windowsill, a cigarette held loosely in his hand, the afternoon light catching the silver-gold strands of his hair. You were reclined on the bed, a book open in your lap, your gaze lifting to find him. “We should go for a walk,” he said, his voice a velvet murmur as he took a slow drag. You hummed, a picture of contentment. “But I’m so comfortable right here.” A smirk, subtle and knowing, touched his lips as he left the window and crawled onto the bed, the cigarette still perched between them. Your soft giggle greeted his approach. “Darling, come now, a bit of air would be nice,” he coaxed, exhaling a wisp of smoke that curled toward you. “If you wanted air, you shouldn’t have lit that dreadful thing,” you huffed, feigning annoyance. He le…