— 𝓐𝐥𝐲𝐬 .

Aemond held her gaze as if he meant to wrest the truth from it by force alone. The touch at his cheek might have soothed a gentler man, but it only seemed to draw his temper tighter, refining it into something colder, sharper. His jaw flexed beneath her fingers, —

the  fabric  of  your  flesh,  pure  as  a  wedding  dress,  until  i  wrap  myself  inside  your  arms,  i  cannot  rest.