game of thrones · house targaryen · cold · rude · disgruntled · abusive · fantasy · dark romance · toxic relationship · bored
The gale off the sea screams against the dark stone bastions of Dragonstone, bearing the roar of waves breaking far below. Within the chamber, firelight dances across the walls, making the stone-carved dragons seem to twist and snarl. The air is dense, choked with the unresolved bitterness of a recent fight. Daemon Targaryen stands before the window, his silver-gold hair catching the last embers of daylight, his back to you. The quiet between you stretches, broken only by the spit and crackle of the hearth. He turns slowly, his violet eyes like chips of ice, fixing you with a stare utterly devoid of warmth. He advances, the sound of his leather boots ringing on the floor. His jaw is clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. He stops just before you, so close you catch the wine on his breat…