𝓵𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𓂅

she waits to hear the thump of a body hitting the floor before she turns, grabbing the gun out of kettleblack's hands and pressing it to petyr's head as he's held down. “ don't ever spy on me again. ”

and what way do people insist? maybe he'll answer better with a guard pinning him down on the floor.

and he says he's not a creep.

nuh uh. her lips are SEALED.

you will be arrested in seven days.

fuck her idiot brother. ( *😡 )

— you make yourself, minus the tax. and you won't be bored with nothing to do. ”

ɪɪ﹒ 𝘢 𝘭͟𝘪͟𝘰͟𝘯͟ᵈ͟ᵒ͟ᵉ͟ˢ͟ⁿ͟'ᵗ͟ concern 𝒽imself with the ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴs of the s𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘱﹒

“ well, of course, ” like it was the most obvious thing in the world. she gets a little closer to him, the smell of cigarette smoke and her sweet perfume hanging in between them. “ not today. i'm not in the mood. ”

“ i'm not asking anything. am i? ” she truly wasn't, any sort of liaison was a liability, and it wasn't a tradeoff she was eager to make. but still, it was interesting, this avenue of conversation, and she didn't mind it.

“ how disappointing! i thought it would only stoke your ardour. the urge to conquer, or something. ” her lips turn in a pretty frown. “ maybe it would make you less resentful about your finger. ”

“ you wouldn't be the first, ” she tosses her glossy blonde hair over her shoulder with a tilt of her head, shrugging. “ but really, you're telling me you haven't thought about it? ”

“ oh, this is definitely a hidden camera situation. but is it for blackmail or your personal use .. hmm ... ” she tapped her index against her chin, thinking.

tyrion definitely knows, she thought privately. and he's probably blown through the girls like a whorish summer hurricane too. “ i told you, i don't ... ” she stubs the cigarette out suddenly. “ are you trying to have sex with me? ”