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officialaemondtargaryen · 4 months

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A Fine Line [part 5]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader / Modern Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~7.2k

Author’s Note: I'm just going to go ahead and put this on a mini-hiatus because I'm moving in less than a month and I don't want anyone waiting for updates. Please note, I have e v e r y intention of finishing this series. I have been writing this for a year, and while it was my intention to be finished by now, you have to understand that I began writing this after my own long-term relationship began to unravel due to many of the same feelings the reader feels towards Aegon. Over the last year, I was able to successfully fix the foundation of my relationship, but it was a rough journey. I have a very clear direction of where this is going, life is just very hectic. It has not been my intention to let anyone down with how spaced out the chapters have been.

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, language, alcohol use, recreational drug use.

Masterlist & Playlist

"I shouldn't have put you through that."

Aegon's words reached you softly as you removed your earrings and carefully unpinned your hair. He was standing in the threshold of your bedroom, leaning against the door frame; two empty wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of merlot in the other.

You looked at him through the reflection of the mirror. His dress shirt was slightly undone at the top and untucked from his slacks– barefoot, he approached you quietly; pouring you both a glass before moving to sit on the bed. You turn to him, taking a glass from his hand, lips sinking into a sad smile as your eyes glanced over at the small suitcase he had packed, sitting next to the door.

Otto wanted him on a plane to Seattle first thing Monday morning.

"I always used to wonder why I had never met them," you replied, dropping your shoulders as you took a sip from your glass. The corners of your lips turn upwards as you say, "I thought that you were ashamed of me."

"Ashamed of them," he countered quickly and rolled his eyes. He reached his hand out and you took a step closer, allowing for him to pull you in. His hands rested on your hips as you stood between his knees, holding his head in your hands. "I could never be ashamed of you."

A silence falls over the two of you as he rests his head forehead against yours and lets out a sigh, holding you tight against him. Your hands move to his hair; softly carding through the thick, blonde strands and he hums in response as his own fingers curl in the velvet fabric of your dress. He lifts his head to look into your eyes and whispers that he loves you. Your hand traces along his jawline until you’re holding his chin between your fingers. His blue eyes are glossy like sea glass and his lips are stained red, both from the wine.

You can feel his hands slide down your backside, smoothing out the crushed blue velvet until he’s reached the hem. He hasn’t kissed you yet, but his lips are taunting, hovering just centimeters from your own. His eyes are fixated on yours as his fingertips move under your dress, teasing slowly up the backs of your thighs. Your eyes lull shut, feeling the touch that you were so desperate for.

“I would hope he wouldn’t be foolish enough to–” Aemond’s words were planted within you, taking root in your insecurities and spreading like disease. “He’s been known to be a bit thoughtless in the past.”

You take Aegon’s hands in yours and stop him from going any further. It’s the last thing that you want to do, but you need to know. His brows crease as he looks at you, clearly confused.

“I need to ask you something,” your voice is soft and unsure as you bite your lip. His expression shifts from confusion to concern as he senses the gravity of your words.

He nods slowly, gently encouraging you to continue.

You draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you're about to say. The weight of your question hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, the room feels suffocatingly silent. “Where were you last Friday night after the gala?”

"I-" Aegon's gaze softens with understanding, voice trailing off momentarily before he clears his throat, attempting to gather his thoughts. “After the gala, Otto and I went back to the office to figure out what to do with Stark International. We’ve offered them everything we can and they still aren’t biting. They agreed to one last offer, and we wanted to do it in person, hence Seattle.”

You study his face intently, searching for any sign of deception, but his expression remains open and honest, his features relaxed. Despite his explanation, that gnawing sense of doubt continued to nag at the most insecure parts of your mind, fueled by the lingering uncertainty that has plagued your relationship for too long. You wanted to believe him, you had no reason not to, but the suspicion lingered; stubbornly persistent, refusing to be silenced by his words.

He looks at you for a moment and finally the realization washes over him.

“You thought I was–” Aegon’s voice trails off as your eyes meet and you reluctantly nod your head, silently confirming his thoughts. He stands immediately and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him. Tears instantly well in your eyes. “I am so, so sorry that I made you feel that way,” he murmurs softly, his lips against your hair. "You need to know that you are the only good thing in my life, and I know that things haven’t been the way they used to be, but I’d never do that to you. I’ve just been so stressed lately."

“You can talk to me about it,” you mumble against his chest before you peel yourself from him to look into his eyes. Aegon tenderly brushes a tear from your cheek, his expression almost breaking. “You don’t have to shut me out.”

“I know,” he sighs and moves to grab his wine glass from the bedside table, gulping the rest of the liquid. He plants himself back on the bed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his stress.

“Do you?” You ask, wiping your hands over your face before grabbing your own glass; taking a deep breath to reset before bringing the glass to your lips. “Aegon, what is going on?”

He only shrugs in response and it is then you can see the fatigue etched into the lines of his face; in the downturn of his lips, across his brow, the bags under his eyes. He looks almost unrecognizable. There’s no happiness behind his eyes, no hope. His face is gaunt rather than round and full. He looks miserable– a shell of his former self. His lips are pale as they part to speak.

“It’s all so much,” his voice quivers, stumbling over the barricades of his emotion. A single tear falls to his cheek. “I feel as if I’m drowning in expectations– in responsibilities that I never asked for.”

All that you can do is listen, despite the way your fingers ached to reach forward and hold him.

“The worst part is that I don’t even know who I am outside of it,” he continues; his words laced with desperation. “It’s the only thing I know now. I can’t do anything about it because what else would I be? I have no choice.”

“Aegon, that’s not true,” you say and take a step towards him. “You absolutely have a choice if it’s making you this unhappy.”

“I do?” He scoffs with a bitter laugh. “At the risk of disappointing everyone in my life?”

“Who are you disappointing? Your family?” A chuckle escapes your lips, “The ones that you kept me a secret from for four years? Who you say are poisonous, power-hungry cunts? That family?”

“It’s hard for you to understand, I get it,” he rolls his eyes and waves you off.

“It’s not hard to understand, Aegon,” your exhale is sharp. “Some bridges are just better off burned.”

“No, it is hard for you to understand,” he pointed. “It’s not just them that I’d be disappointin’!”

You look at him, allowing his words to linger in the space that had grown between you in the last year or so. Your heart cracks at the sight of him. You’ve never seen him like this before; completely stripped of the facade that he often wore. It was almost unsettling to see him so vulnerable. You take another step forward and cup his cheek, your touch tender as it reaches his skin. He looks as if he’s made of glass and he’s going to break into a thousand pieces right in front of you– right in your hands, broken and unable to be repaired.

“D’you know what I mean now?” He asks, his soft eyes meeting yours.

“Baby, you could never disappoint me,” you tell him after a few moments of silence.

“But I already have,” he takes your hand from his cheek and holds it in his own. “Is that not what this is about? You thought I was cheating, that’s pretty fucking disappointing if you ask me,” he says with a dejected smile. “When all I really wanted was to make sure that we’d be okay for whatever comes next– a house, a wedding, kids…”

His gaze is once again locked with yours. Your breath hitches in your throat. Years ago, when you had first met, you had spent many nights laying on his living room floor, high, talking about the future. That same future that he was alluding to right now; a house in the quiet part of the city, three bedrooms with a great view near the park, wine in your tumbler at soccer practice while a pale-haired boy– who looks the spitting image of his father– scores his second goal of the game. You hadn’t nailed down a name yet, but you did have a list.

“Instead, I was pushing you away,” his voice cuts through your fantasy; gaze lowering to the beige carpet beneath your feet. Another tear falls to his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

You take a deep breath and pull him into you, cradling him in your arms. His head instantly nuzzles into your chest, pulling you as close and as tightly to him as he can manage. His grip is almost desperate, as if afraid to let go, and you feel his breath warm and ragged against your skin. You pull back, holding him at arm's length as you look into his broken eyes. His face is blotchy red, wet with tear tracks down to his chin. For a moment, you just hold him there, your eyes locked, searching for the right words.

“Aegon,” you say in a whisper. “I love you.”

His eyes soften at your words, lip quivering softly as he moves his hands to hold your face. A fresh wave of tears wells up in his eyes as a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

“I love you,” he repeats back with sincerity. “You mean everything to me.”

Slowly, Aegon closes the distance between you and your lips meet in a gentle kiss. It's soft at first, tentative and gentle, as if testing the waters; scared to get your hopes up for something more that typically never came. Yet, the kiss deepened, becoming heavy with the need for reassurance. You give in almost too easily, melting into his lips as he pulls you onto him. Your dress scrunches at the hips as you straddle his waist and his hands slide up your back.

A soft moan escapes your lips as your kisses become desperate. Aegon follows willingly; his hands and lips are everywhere. He’s clawing at the neckline of your dress, anguishing for more skin. His lips are searing as he places open mouthed kisses along your shoulder. You can hear stitches ripping, but you’re lost in the feeling of his mouth on you. He’s removed your bra, helping himself to handfuls of your breasts. Your head falls back at the sensation, lipstick smeared lips parted open as you moan. His hands drop to your thighs, smoothing over the taut fabric of your tights as his fingertips dip under the hemline of your dress. He grips the fullness of your ass with both hands before pulling your dress the rest of the way over your head.

He’s almost irresistible with that full, pink pout. His lips are swollen already, his eyes full blown with desire as you made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt. In one fluid motion, Aegon picks you up and lays you back down on the bed. As he begins to unbutton his slacks, you sit up and swat his hands away. He whines, head tipping back, as you place a kiss on the skin beneath his navel. His cock twitches beneath his slacks and you smirk; looking up at him with wide eyes as you slowly work the zipper. You can feel he’s throbbing, desperate to be free from his clothing.

You don’t undress him completely– just enough to allow his cock to spring free. Your tongue slides across your bottom lip as you take his girth in your hand. He shivers at the touch and you look back up at him; he’s waiting patiently, but also looks as if he’s going to unravel. He holds the base of his cock with one hand and delicately cradles your neck with the other, his thumb gently smoothing across your bottom lip.

“Open,” he instructed and you did so obediently.

Aegon’s head fell back as he forced himself to the back of your throat, reveling in the feeling of your muscles tightening around his thick cock with each time you gagged; his whimpering moans fueling you. Saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth and down your chin, dampening your chest. He watches you in delirium, pushing himself deeper as he relishes in the feeling; not realizing how long it had actually been until this very moment. He was hardly unable to control himself, already coming undone at the seams and you hadn’t even begun.

He quickly pulls himself from your mouth, exhaling a shaky breath as you gasp for air. He’s edging himself, not wanting to ruin the moment, not when it’s been so long since he’s had you. He pushes you back, pressing you into the mattress beneath him and groans at the sight. You’re shy under his gaze– despite the fact that he’s seen you like this plenty of times– you can’t help but squirm sheepishly as his eyes roam your figure. You’re not completely undressed yet, but that doesn’t stop him from admiring you.

“I’m so lucky,” he whispers with soft eyes, tracing his fingertips along your curves.

You shiver, biting your bottom lip as his touch descends to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your tights, slowly sliding them down your thighs. He lowers his head, planting tender kisses along your inner thighs and knees, leaving a trail down your legs until he reaches your ankles and removes the tights completely. He swears at the sight of you completely exposed and all his; hungry eyes tracing across every supple curve. His hands caress back up your thighs, spreading them gently as he moves lower, his lips following the path of his fingers. Each kiss he plants on your skin sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your breath hitch. When he reaches your core, his touch is gentle, reverent, as if he’s kneeling before an altar.

He looks up at you one last time, eyes dark with desire, before he dips his head between your thighs. His tongue flicks out, teasing you with a gentle touch that makes you gasp. He works slowly at first, exploring and savoring every reaction he elicits from you. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers curling into the soft strands as you arch into his touch. Slowly, his movements become more purposeful, more focused. His tongue and lips work in perfect harmony to drive you closer to the edge. He finds a rhythm that makes you tremble, your moans growing louder with each passing moment.

The pressure builds, a coil tightening in your belly until it snaps, and you cry out his name, your body quaking with the force of your climax. Yet, Aegon doesn’t stop. He prolongs your pleasure until you’re spent; body sinking back into the mattress as sweat beads on your forehead. He removes his mouth from your sopping cunt with a wet smirk. His face is flushed, lips glistening with your essence. He hums in delight at the mess you’ve caused and spreads your dripping folds with his fingers, toying with you.

“Look at you,” he praised. “How many times can I make you cum tonight?”

“Aegon,” you whimpered as he rubbed circles around your clit.

He watched intently as you reacted to the feeling of him touching you in such an intimate way. Your back lifted from the bed, arching as his movements became faster and harder. You were closing in on another climax; eyes rolled back, lips parted, hands grasping at the sheets. He pumped his fingers inside of you- one, and then two, curling back and forth until he could feel your body tightening around him. He used his free hand to hold you in place, keeping you still– his fingers twirling around a nipple. Once he knew you wouldn’t be able to last any longer, he pulled his fingers from your core and immediately replaced them with his mouth. Your hands flew to his hair as you pushed yourself completely against his face, hips thrusting as you spew curse words; a tidal wave of pleasure sweeping over your entire body.

Aegon was far from being done with you, however.

After your body was left shaking– and he had lapped up every drop of cum that drooled from your slit– he was on top of you, once again, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself. Your tongue pushes beyond his lips, exploring his mouth. He whimpers, feeling his cock brush against your hot core. Your hands roam over his body, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles. You tug at his pants, and he quickly sheds them, his need for you evident in every movement.

His eyes were tender as he gazed down to you; lining himself up with your entrance, rubbing his tight cock head over your already pulsating clit. A guttural moan bubbled in his throat as he cursed at the tightness of you. Before he was all the way inside of you, he pulled himself back out and then forced himself back in; filling you to the hilt. The size of him tearing through your walls made you gasp, a sound that was muffled by his lips. His hips moved against yours, each thrust becoming more synchronized.

The sounds of your moans filled the room, along with the tapping of the headboard on the wall. The sensation was overwhelming. Aegon moves with a tenderness that takes your breath away. Each thrust is measured, controlled, as if he is trying to savor every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, your bodies moving in perfect sync. He ducked his head to the crook of your neck as he continued to move, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer; not after all the foreplay. Nevertheless, the pace quickens, driven by a shared urgency and need to lose yourselves in each other. His name falls from your lips softly, like a prayer. His breath is hot against your skin and with a shaking moan- he was pulling himself out of you and spilling his hot cum in a line right up your stomach.

Aegon rests his forehead against yours as the last little bit of his seed drips from his tip. He collapses beside you, pulling you close, your bodies still entwined. Your chest is heaving as you try to steady your breathing. He watches you tenderly, drinking in the sight. His lips find yours for a soft, breathless kiss and you moan softly against his lips as your body still tingles from the high of that final climax.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs softly, pressing a final kiss to your lips and shuffling from the bed. He pauses at the threshold, glancing back at you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re so beautiful, maybe I should just leave you like this,” he says with a playful smile.

“Aegon,” you whine, shooing him away playfully.

He laughs, disappearing into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth.

You can’t help the smile on your own lips, bathing in the afterglow of the intimacy you had just shared. He returns shortly after and begins gently cleaning you; his touch tender and attentive as always. You giggled with him, softly joking back and forth together. For a moment, it feels like it used to, and you silently hoped it would remain this way. Though, you were hesitant to get your hopes up knowing that it would be unfair of you to expect change overnight.

Afterward, you both lay in bed, entangled in each other’s arms. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. You can’t help but think about the weight he carries– the unfair expectations his family has placed on him, the pressure to be something he isn’t and the constant fear of failure and disappointment. You almost don’t want to bring it up, but you don’t want to return to the silence that you had become so accustomed to; the need to connect and understand him outweighs your hesitation.

“What’s going to happen with your dad?” You ask softly, looking up at him.

He groans and breathes out a sigh, clearly not wanting to talk about work. Not now. Though that reluctance was part of the ongoing problem between the two of you; the rift, the distance, it was all because he’d just rather not talk about it– deciding always to carry his stress alone. He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs his wine glass, swirling the liquid as he contemplates how to answer.

“The man I saw tonight at dinner is not capable of running a company,” you add before he can say anything, hoping to break through his reluctance.

“And that will stay in the family,” Aegon sighs, his fingers trailing lightly over your shoulder as he makes deliberate eye contact. It feels like a warning. “We– they don’t want the truth about his condition to get out. Rhaenyra doesn’t even know the full extent of it. If she did, she could challenge for ownership of the company. As long as she and everyone else believes that Viserys Targaryen is well enough, Otto can continue with business as usual. The second the truth gets out, she’ll come for us all.”

“But how?”

“According to her, she has a trust that was signed years ago– before I was even born– naming her successor in the event that anything happened.”

“Does she?” you ask, searching his eyes.

“She might,”Aegon shrugs, a weary smile tugging at his lips. “I hope she does. My father never wanted me to take over the company, anyways, he’s always wanted it to be her, but my mother swears that he signed a second trust that would name me CEO. If Rhaenyra were to come forth with a trust superseding the one my mother has or if it were to come out that my mother may have forged that document–”

He trails off, eyes distant as he plays out that scenario in his head. He shakes his head, as if trying to dislodge the thought, and then looks back at you.

“Can we change the subject?”

You nod understandingly and ask after a few moments of silence, “are you ready for Seattle?”

He sets his wine glass down and pulls you close again, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he wraps his arms around you, “I’m not ready to leave you.”

You smile to yourself but say nothing as you lightly graze his skin with your fingertips. As you lay there with him in your arms, your mind drifts to the implications of everything he’s just shared. You knew about Rhaenyra, you knew there was some sort of a power struggle, but you didn’t know the specifics. Aegon didn’t want you caught up in it and you were starting to understand why. You had a great career, but Aegon’s position meant security. The uncertainty of his future affected more than just him. You couldn’t even begin to relate to the pressure he must have felt, what little bit he decided to share with you tonight couldn’t have been but the tip of the iceberg. The weight of it all presses down on you, but you push the thoughts away, focusing instead on the warmth of his body against yours.

The rest of the weekend was spent in that very spot; only getting up for more wine, for take out deliveries, to shower– but only together. Aegon didn’t answer a single phone call that weekend, sending his grandfather to voicemail every time. You were living in a haze, drowning out the sounds of the phone ringing with your moans; fucking again and again until you’d fall asleep in each other’s arms.

The world outside ceased to exist, at least for two fleeting days.

When Monday morning comes, you wake to find him already gone; a sense of emptiness where his warmth had been just hours before. On the bedside table, next to your empty wine glass, there’s a note written in a familiar scrawl: “Back soon, I love you always.” A small smile settles on your lips as you read his words. He’d only be gone for one day, returning tomorrow on your anniversary. You hadn’t made plans, not with how you had been feeling towards him lately. When he mentioned he had to fly out to Seattle just the day before you were to celebrate four years together, you weren’t even sure if he’d even be here– and now he wasn’t, but with the promise that he would be back in time to celebrate.

The first year, he had planned a picnic by the beach– it was a chilly early Spring day and the wind was impossible, but it was such a sweet gesture. He was so upset that things hadn’t gone as planned, you remembered how cute he had been, trying to make everything as perfect as he could. The second year, you had both spent a weekend in L.A. where he took you to see your favorite artist perform. And last year, he had sent three bouquets of your favorite flowers to your office and made a reservation for your favorite restaurant.

Your hopes were already up.

“You are glowing,” Baela commented with a bright smile as you got to your cubicle. “I take it you had a good weekend. Things with Aegon getting better?”

“We had a really nice weekend together,” you can’t help the smile on your lips. Before you can continue giving your friend the details, you look up to see your boss’ assistant making a beeline for your desk.

“Ty wants to see you in his office,” she says to you and promptly turns back around.

You narrow your eyes at her as she walked away and turn your attention to Baela; sharing a knowing look. You hated the way she called him ‘Ty’. You also hated that you accidentally found out they were having an affair; having caught them coming out of the copy room one Thursday morning. You watched as she adjusted her skirt and him replacing his wedding ring– he had to take it off so that he wouldn’t feel guilty. He had made direct eye contact with you across the cubicle walls, and ever since, hadn’t said more than three words to you.

Tyland Lannister was the type of guy who really relished in being someone’s boss; editor in chief, his name on the door of his private, corner office. The view wasn’t spectacular, but you could tell he was proud of it. He was standing with his back to you, taking in that view as his mistress announced your arrival. She closed the door behind you and you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“This couldn’t have been an email?” You joked, knowing that was his preferred method of communication.

“Did you have a good weekend?” He asks without even turning to face you.

“What?” You ask, utterly confused.

“Got an anonymous tip that the Targaryens had a little family dinner,” he continues and finally turns towards you, pointing to a front-page proof sitting on the table in front of you. Your heart immediately sinks in your chest. “A source close to the family claims that you were there, can you confirm?”

Your brows come together as you take a step towards the proof, eyes scanning the headline: “Daddy’s Favorite: Insider Claims Daughter To Be Named TargCorp Successor”. Your eyes immediately widen as you skim the rest of the article; a scathing detailing of the exact concerns Aegon had finally opened up about this past weekend.

“You’re running this?”

“What do you mean?” Tyland asked incredulously, laughing. “Of course we’re running it! This is the first credible thing we’ve heard about Viserys Targaryen in months. If you were, in fact, at this dinner party, we would be the only paper with an eye-witness account of Viserys Targaryen’s status. Can you confirm?”

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head. “No, I won’t. If you run this, it’s without my input. I refuse to allow you to use my relationship to sell papers.”

“Think about what you’re doing,” he warns.

“Think about what you’re doing,” you counter.

Without another word, you turn sharply on your heel and head back to your desk. Your heart was pounding with adrenaline from standing up to your boss. You’ve never had to do that before, but were proud of yourself for standing your ground. Regardless of your defiance, you knew that there was nothing you could do to keep Tyland from publishing; it’d be on the front page, on newsstands everywhere tomorrow morning.

And you could already see the fingers being pointed in your direction.

Immediately you reach for your phone when you return to your desk, hastily swiping across the screen to dial Aegon’s number, but the call immediately goes to a full voicemail box. You grunt in frustration, dialing him again with the same outcome. You find his text thread and quickly send him a message: “Call me when you can, it’s important.”

Baela is asking too many questions, her curiosity piqued by your frantic demeanor, but you’re too preoccupied to answer her. You excuse yourself and dart into the nearest bathroom for solace.

You pace back and forth, the realization hitting you that this story has the potential to destroy your relationship. It was almost too convenient that this news breaks right after Aegon finally opens up to you and introduces you to his family. Desperation drives you to scroll through the other contacts in your phone. Not sure what to do, but knowing you need to tell someone, your thumb hesitates over a familiar name before you press the screen to call.

Aemond answers on the first ring, his voice is laced with obvious concern– still, you can’t help but feel relieved to hear it. He listens intently as you provide as much information as you can, his silence encouraging you to spill every detail.

“Aegon’s in Seattle. He’s not answering,” you tell him, continuing to pace back and forth in the dimly lit restroom. Your heels click on the tile floor, echoing through the empty space. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I’ll take care of it,” he affirms, and sounds so sure of himself that you can’t help but to feel at ease. You have no real reason to trust him, but for some reason, you just do.

You thank him with a sigh of relief, and he tells you not to worry about it. As the call ends, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror. Earlier, you had been glowing with the lingering excitement from your weekend with Aegon. Now, your face was void of color and creased with worry. You turn on the tap and splash some water over your face to alleviate the anxiety that had made you so tense, hoping to be able to return to your work without any more cause for concern.

Baela is waiting at your desk when you return.

She glances up from her phone, her perfect eyebrows arched high with concern. You can feel her gaze following you as you sit down, her curiosity practically burning a hole through you.

“Well?” She asks, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“I think someone is actively trying to ruin my life,” you laugh but Baela’s expression remains stern. Your smile immediately falls and you sigh. “Tyland is going to run a story about Aegon’s family, things that weren’t supposed to get out, and I’m worried that it might blow up and hurt him.”

She remains silent as you continue.

“He finally opened up to me about everything, Bae,” you say as you hold your head in your hands. “He told me everything and now–”

Baela's eyes widened. "You think they're going to blame you for it?"

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I don't want Aegon to think I had anything to do with it. I feel like we’re finally getting back to how things used to be and this could ruin everything."

She reaches out and squeezes your hand. You manage a small smile.

“He’ll understand,” she assures you. “And if he doesn’t, well, I’ll help you knock some sense into him.”

“Thanks,” you say, squeezing her hand in return. “I just got off the phone with Aemond. He’s going to try and figure out who this ‘anonymous source’ is.”

Baela raises an eyebrow. “You called Aemond?”

“Aegon wasn’t answering,�� you shrug, downplaying it. “I had no one else to call.”

“Are you sure that you can trust him?” She asks. “You don’t really know him that well.”

You slightly narrow your eyes at her, wondering why she’d even ask. “I have no reason not to trust him.”

“You’re right,” she nods and turns away from you back to her own desk. After a few moments of silence she turns back to you and adds, “I just want you to be careful.”

“Noted,” you reply, a hint of irritation laced within your words.

The rest of your day dragged on agonizingly slowly. Constantly checking your phone for any calls or texts from Aegon or Aemond made each minute feel endless. Everything you worked on seemed meaningless; each word you typed felt like it was just pushing you further and further towards writing classified ads in a dingy, basement cubicle with that guy who was rumored to have been blackmailing women into sending him pictures of their feet.

By the end of the day, you were more than ready to leave.

As soon as the clock hit five, you grabbed your things and headed out, barely acknowledging Baela’s concerned glance as you made your way towards the elevator. A dull migraine had been building all afternoon, and you couldn’t wait to get out from underneath the harsh fluorescents of the office. The cool, early evening air was a welcome relief as you stepped out onto the busy streets. The walk to the subway felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the weight of the day’s stress.

The moment you stepped through the door of your apartment, you tossed your bag onto the couch and headed straight for the shower, doing your best to ignore how eerily quiet it was.

The tension in your shoulders instantly melted away as you stepped into the hot water, allowing the steam to envelop you and wash away the grime of the day, alleviating your migraine and helping you to feel a bit more relaxed. Yet, you still couldn’t help but let your thoughts drift back to the conversation you had with Tyland earlier; his threatening words loud and prominent in your mind, drowning out the sound of the water. You knew there was no point in worrying about the article or the implications it could have on your life. You had done everything you could, but the anxiety still gnawed at you. The anticipation was suffocating, a weight on your chest that refused to lift.

With a frustrated sigh, you shut off the water and stepped out.

The apartment was still too quiet.

At this point in the evening, Aegon would usually be upstairs in his office, deep into a business call with his advisors, talking money and spreadsheets and accounts. It was something that, just days ago, you were fed up with, but now, you just missed the sound of his voice. You grabbed your phone from the bathroom counter and figured you’d try him one more time, thinking that it might be late enough and he’d be finished with whatever meetings he had for the day.

The phone rang and rang, and eventually his generic voicemail picked up, “the person you are trying to reach has a voicemail box that is full and cannot accept new messages.”

Disappointment settled in as the call ended.

You wrapped yourself in a towel and walked into the bedroom, the silence amplifying your loneliness. As you dressed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The uncertainty of the situation with the article, combined with Aegon’s unavailability, left you feeling more isolated than ever. Desperate for a distraction, you decided to make yourself a cup of tea, hoping it would help calm your nerves. As the water boiled, you checked your phone again, praying for a message from Aegon or an update from Aemond.

The lack of communication was driving you insane.

A knock on the front door tore through the silence as you sat at your kitchen table; a now lukewarm cup of tea in front of you. Your heart beat quickly as you quietly stepped up to the door and looked through the peephole to see Aemond standing in the hallway. He knocked once more, and you hesitated. It wasn’t until he turned to leave that you finally opened the door.

“Aemond?” You ask, voice soft and curious. He turned back, his expression serious but softening slightly when he saw you. You leaned against the doorframe, opening the door a little wider. “Did you find out who it was?”

“Not yet,” he said with a shake of his silvery blonde locks. “Really, I just wanted to check on you. You sounded stressed on the phone earlier.”

You laughed through your nose and motioned for him to come in.

There was a small smirk on his lips as he stepped inside that seemed almost proud, and suddenly the atmosphere between the two of you shifted slightly as you became acutely aware of the space he took up in your living room as he towered over you. The air he brought in with him smelled of tobacco and mint gum, and new car air freshener.

“Would you like something to drink?” You asked him, lingering in the threshold of the kitchen.

“No, thank you,” he says softly. “Have you heard from Aegon?”

You shook your head, “have you?”

“As attached as he is to his phone, he is surprisingly hard to reach,” he says with a lighthearted laugh.

He meant nothing by the statement, but suddenly you remember what he had told you on the dock– those words that had been floating around in your head rent free since the dinner party– Aegon’s own brother providing you with a warning of the type of person he knew him to be. As you both sat on the couch, the silence grew heavy with unspoken words. Aemond must have noticed the way that your smile had faded, because he reached over and placed his hand on your knee, sending a jolt of awareness throughout your entire body.

“Hey,” he says softly, squeezing your knee softly. “He’s just busy. This contract is important.”

“You said so yourself that he’s been thoughtless,” you remind him with a frown.

“In the past,” he says reassuringly. “In fact, that’s actually part of the reason I wanted to see you tonight. It was wrong of me to imply that my brother may be unfaithful to you. He is an idiot, probably the most foolish twat I've ever met, but it's obvious he loves you. You’ve completely changed him.”

You shake your head and stand up, crossing your arms across your chest as you pace the living room. It wasn't what you wanted to hear. Everything wrong with your relationship with Aegon was because he'd changed.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly, moving to get up from the couch. “If you’d like I can go.”

“No, I–” your words are quick, stopping him in place. “You weren't wrong. Aegon and I have our problems, which I’m sure anyone would notice if they paid even a moment of attention.”

“What sort of problems?” He asks after a few moments of silence. You look at him with surprise, not expecting him to want to hear about your broken relationship with his brother. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t know who he is anymore,” you say softly, defeated. “You say that I completely changed him, but that's not at all what I wanted. If you had told me four years ago that the guy I fell in love with would become this empty, corporate machine I would have laughed in your face. And just when I thought that things were finally getting better, someone leaked that story and I’m back at square one.”

Aemond stands up and places his hands on your shoulders and you instantly feel grounded by his touch; as if his touch alone could solve every one of your grievances. You look up at him, softly biting your lip as your eyes carve out the sharpness of his features. You don't know how to feel with the way he's looking at you; you're both uneasy and aroused.

“I’m going to figure it out,” he says firmly as his thumbs smooth over the fabric of your t-shirt.

“Thank you, Aemond,” your voice is barely above a whisper as the tension of the moment blankets you.

“I should go,” he adds after a moment of silence and you nod reluctantly.

As Aemond pulled his hands from your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel an immediate longing for his touch. You knew it was wrong, it was more than wrong to feel this way about your boyfriend's brother.

And yet, all you wanted in that moment was to feel his lips on yours.

“I hope you have a good night,” you say to him as you walk him to the door. "Thanks for the company."

“Anytime," he offers a soft nod as he presses the button to call the elevator. "If you need anything, you know I'll answer."

You smile, hearing the real message in his words.

But as if he needed to make it more clear he adds, "and hey, I know that relationships are complicated, but I also know that you deserve someone who appreciates you and is willing to show it.”

The words hung between the two of you, heavy with unspoken meaning. You both knew he wasn’t talking about Aegon.

For half a second, you visualize pulling him back into your apartment; pulling him in and feeling his touch once again. There were so many things left unsaid, but the fact that Aemond Targaryen wanted you wasn’t one of them.

But then the elevator doors opened, bringing you back to reality, and without another word he was gone.

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