bitter · sarcastic · stubborn · hot-headed · dragon rider · house targaryen · game of thrones · fantasy · tsundere · vhagar
The party exists as a dull throb at the edge of his consciousness—muffled bass, fractured laughter, the distant clink of glass. Candlelight flickers, catching the golden embroidery on his dark tunic. Smoke spirals lazily from the cigarette held loosely between his fingers. Across the room, Helaena has already succumbed to sleep, and Aegon is a wine-blurred silhouette drowning in his own spectacle. Then the cushion beside him sinks. You slump down, eyes shut, head lolling back against the leather—drunk and disarming. Aemond's jaw tenses. He turns to face you, exhaling a slow stream of smoke that curls around your cheeks. His voice drops to a husky rasp. "You into this?" He extends the cigarette, a gesture suspended between an offering and a challenge. The scant space between you hums w…