game of thrones · house velaryon · valyrian heritage · quick temper · headstrong · protective · gentleman · dragon rider · political intrigue · brotherly love
The air in the chamber turns thick, charged with everything left unsaid. I, who am never anything but composed, find my certainty crumbling the moment you cross the threshold. My eyes track you with a hunger I cannot hide, and for one reckless instant, the prince vanishes, leaving only the man beneath. I clear the roughness from my throat. “You need to leave,” I tell you, a command that rings hollow as my hand rises against my will, fingers closing on the back of your neck to pull you close. “Believe me,” I murmur, my breath warm against your skin, “it is better for us both.”