The source of his distress? You. Or rather, a lack of you. 

“Adrian! I’ll be back on Sunday night!” You laugh as your boyfriend clings to you, his strong arms wrapped around you as he hugs you goodbye 

“What if you forget about me?” He replies sadly 

“Impossible.” You smile, pulling back to look at him. You reach upwards and grab his face, squishing his cheeks as he tries to push you off. “You think I’d forget about a face like this?” 

“Maybe! What if you meet some hot finance bro and decide you want to go out with him?” Adrian says, pushing your hand off him 

“I’d rather pay you to run me over with the Vigilante-Mobile than date some finance bro who was probably president of his frat back in the day.” You scoff

“Good.” Adrian hums as he presses a kiss to your forehead. 

You were going away on a business trip. Your company was having a yearly convention in Los Angeles. Adrian didn’t see why he couldn’t go. Of course, you’d explained that. Something about policy and that it’d be boring for him anyway, even if HR approved his attendance. 

Whatever, all he knew was that he missed you. A lot. 

You’d left him on Thursday night. He’d dropped you off at the airport himself, watched you disappear through the TSA line before walking back to his car alone. It was Sunday now, 11:54 AM according to his phone. Your flight was estimated to touch down at 8:30 pm. 

Yesterday, he’d gone to Chris’ and tried to socialize with him and the other 11th Street Kids. He must’ve done a terrible job at hiding how much he missed you since Harcourt and Economos called him out on his depressive state. 

“Dude, you look like someone killed your cat,” John said 

“I don’t even have a cat,” Adrian replied 

“No, it's a figure of-” 

“He means you look like shit, Adrian.” Harcourt cut in 

“Pfft, I’m fine.” Adrian scoffs, “Do I not look fine?” 

Adrian stared at his friends, Adebayo shook her head, and suggested he go take a look in the mirror. 

“You look like some…sad shell of yourself, man,” Chris says, motioning to Adrian’s entire body as he sips at a beer. 

This was the first time he’d been away from you for longer than twenty-four hours since he started dating you. You, for all purposes, were absolutely perfect. He’d met you seven months ago in a dark alley on Main Street. 

He’d been in full Vigilante gear, watching in his car as you walked home from the bus stop. As you walked along, a small stray brown cat ran across your path, and like many oblivious citizens, you called after it and followed it as it disappeared between Jay’s Barber and an empty building that was once a sandwich shop.

Adrian had gotten out of the car the moment you disappeared after the cat. He had half a ham sandwich he was prepared to offer you and the cat, but stopped short when he heard you cry out. 

“I don’t have any cash! Just take my credit card!” You say as he presses a knife to your throat 

“Why? So you can call your bank and cancel it as soon as I walk off?” The man growls 

“I promise I won’t! We can go to an ATM instead if you want cash!” You argue

He picked up his pace and entered the alleyway to find a large figure pinning you up against the brick of the buildings. Your purse was discarded on the ground, and your wallet was open, credit cards and ID scattered on the dirty ground as you cried for the stranger to let you go. 

The man grunts, leaning in closer, his breath polluting your soft skin, “I guess you’ll just have to pay me another way.” 

His hand has just skimmed your upper thigh when Adrian quickly pulls him off you. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of consent, cuz’ I did not hear a yes out of the lady's lips!” Vigilante says as he punches the man in the face 

Your attacker spits a mouthful of blood on the ground before charging at him. 

“Look out!” 

Your panicked voice distracts him for a second and he’s a little too slow drawing his gun from its holster. He winces as the hooded man’s knife finds a home in his thigh. 

“Fuckkk!" he groans as he points the gun into the man’s face, “Not cool!” 

“Wait!” The man raises his hands in surrender, “Please don’t!” 

“Huh, funny, I bet she was gonna say the same thing to you.” Vigilante scoffs 

The man takes a step forward and Vigilante pulls the trigger. The gunshot is loud and you cover your ears. 

He stares at the dead body before turning to you, “Are you alright, citizen?” 

You’re shaking, he can see it as you nod, staring at his visor, “Thank you, Vigilante.” 

“You know who I am?” He smiles under his mask, a pretty girl knows who he is! 

“I’ve seen the news articles about you.” You say, eyes flicking to the dead body, “They say you’re a rampant murderer who’s a danger to society.” 

“Pfffft I’m not a danger to society!” He laughs 

“So you’re just a rampant murderer then?” You counter 

Vigilante stretches his hand out to pull you off the dirty alley way ground, “Rampant? Not really. Murderer? Yes.” 

You take his hand and he pulls you to his feet as he speaks again, “Only bad guys though. Like this piece of shit.” 

“Yes, well, I am glad you saved me.” You give him a small smile 

He wants to say you’re welcome but suddenly his vision is getting a bit hazy. He didn’t even get any blood on his visor so what’s the problem now? 

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” You yell 

Oh right. He was stabbed. 

Vigilante is dragged out of the alleyway and back onto the sidewalk by his pencil skirt wearing hero. 

“We need to go to a hospital, I’ll call an uber.” You say, leaning him up against a mailbox to pull your phone out 

“No hospitals. “He groans, pointing to his right, “My car’s right there, just get me inside and I can drive away.” 

“You need your right foot to drive and right now there's a big knife lodged in your thigh.” You say 

Vigilante wants to laugh and thank you for the obvious callout. Instead though, he falls onto the sidewalk, his head woozy from all the blood loss. 

“Shit!” You’re yelling, trying to pull him back up by the body armor on his chest, “We gotta get to the hospital, Vigilante!” 

“Mmm, no hospital…” Vigilante mumbles, “I don’t have health insurance…” 

“Oh my god!” 

When he comes to, he’s sitting outside his house, his car is parked in the driveway and you’re frantically shaking him and saying his name, his real name. 

“Adrian! Get up! You’re not dead right?” 

“I’m alive.” He grunts 

“Good. You’re home, by the way.” You say 

“How the fuck do you know my name?” Adrian says, fumbling for his gun, “Have you been stalking me?” 

“What?” No! Your car registration has your name and address.” You say, “I pulled it out after you passed out.” 

Adrian looks down at his glove compartment to see his Geico insurance papers sitting in a neat little pile beside the travel pack of tissues he stashed in there months ago. 

“Adrian Chase, 406 North Jamison Street.” You say, “Evergreen, Washington.” 

Well fuck him, you were one resourceful stranger. 

He begrudgingly lets you help him into his house. For once he’s thankful for his mom’s church group, it means she isn’t here to see him get carried into the house in full gear by a woman clothed in office clothes. 

Vigilante unlocks his secret room and all but collapses onto the old futon he keeps down here for when he plays his nintendo. 

“Can you get my first aid kit? It’s in the top right drawer.” 

He flips open the container he keeps his stuff in, pawing through the bandaids and gauze to find his surgical needles. 

“Oh my god, you’re not going to stitch yourself up right now-” You shudder 

“I am if someone would be quiet.” He hisses, he’s in a lot of pain now, the adrenaline from the fight is gone and he’s starting to get hungry. You’re pretty, no doubt about that but now you’re a stranger that knows his name and where he lives. 

“Help me take these off.” He grunts, fumbling with his belt 

You yank his pants down, and if he were in a better mood, he’d point out how embarrassed you looked right now. 

He pulls the knife out, it’s not too deep of a wound, a couple inches at best, the guy had only been wielding a pocket knife. 

He gets two good stitches in before he feels like he’s going to pass out, “Fuck me!” 

He slams his free hand into the plush of the futon. His thigh is burning and the bleeding has barely slowed down, his stomach was grumbling now too. 

“Let me.” You say 

“You know how to give people stitches?” He asks hesitantly

“Sorta.” You say taking the needle from him, “I dropped out of my college's nursing program after puking during a cadaver lab.” 

You’re not half bad. It’s not hospital level and he’ll have a scar but at least it's closed. He thanks you before pulling his pants back up. He attempts to stand up but shudders in pain as you watch him curiously. 

“Where are you going?” You ask 

“To the kitchen for my microwaveable mac and cheese cups.” He says, limping towards the door 

“Should I just… go home then?” You ask, standing up 

“No!” He snaps, “I can’t have you leaving knowing my identity.” 

Embarrassingly enough he lets you help him back upstairs to the kitchen and watches you microwave the macaroni. 

“So you’re going to keep me in that room forever?” You ask 

“Yes, no…I dunno I haven’t figured it out yet.” He says, “Too hungry right now.” 

Two minutes later you’re placing the little cup in front of him and handing him a spoon. He has to admit, you make a killer microwave mac and cheese, this looks perfect. You even happened to grab his favorite spoon out of the drawer. 

“You gonna absorb the food through that mask?” You ask, sitting down next to him 

He glares at you through the visor. You already know his name and where he lives, he might as well show you his face too. 

He sighs and pulls his mask off, watching your expression as you scan his face. 

“Huh.” You smile softly 

“What?” He asks as he stuffs a forkful of noodles into his mouth 

“I always thought the guy under the Vigilante suit would be some creepy bald middle aged guy, but you’re kinda cute. In a fucked up murderer kinda way.” 

Adrian smiles at the memory. He’d let you go the next morning after a night of movies and microwave popcorn. You were sworn to secrecy, and he’d made good on his promise to drop in on you every few days to make sure you were keeping your mouth shut. Eventually, the drop-ins became less about threatening you to keep his identity safe and more about how your day went and what skimpy pyjama shorts you were donning for the evening. Before he knew it, you were his entirely, going on dates and picking out the bean bag for the Vigilante room. 

Said beanbag was missing a vital part right now, though, you. He loved it when you sat in his lap while he played on his Switch. 

Adrian groaned as he glanced at the clock again, it was only 3PM. He felt like a train that ran off its track. It’s like all colors had been sucked out of the world without you by his side. He had nothing but maggots for brains. He wondered how early he should get to the airport. 

The sound of the locks to his secret room twisting had him perking up. Only two people on the planet had keys to this room, he was one half of that pair, which could only mean…

You push the door to Vigilante’s secret room open. You knew he was going to be thrilled to see you so early. You’d booked an earlier flight, missing Adrian too much to stay in LA for another day of conferences and boring speeches. 

The excited yell of your name has your ears perking up. There he is, you smile as he jumps off the beanbag the two of you often shared. He practically knocked the air out of you as he pulled you into his chest for a hug. His voice is muffled as he speaks into your hair, 

“You’re never allowed to leave me again.” 

Enjoyed the story? Leave a comment and let me know! Comments keep me writing and I love feedback! 🧜🏻‍♂️✨

Adrian and Reader be like:

Adebayo wants to get back together with her wife and those three dogs that Adrian is pretty sure are regarded as children. Economos wants a job where he’s actually working for the good of the people. Chris wants Harcourt to notice him and for Eagly to stop shitting in his bed. Harcourt? Well, she probably wishes Adrian would stop showing up at her house on his days off. She also probably wants her real job back. Adrian hopes they all get what they want someday, except for Harcourt. Adrian loves stealing her food while she’s yelling at him to get the hell out. 

At 33, Adrian doesn’t know what he wants. Sure, he wants people to stop littering and drawing on the dumpster at Fennel Fields. But in the grand scheme of things, his wish list for his life is rather empty. At one point in his life, he had some idea of it, a hazy image of a house with his best friend as his wife, a basketball hoop in the driveway, and a couple of kids who looked just like you. Or, if you didn’t want kids, a group of cats that stole his spot on the couch and left their hair all over his clothing. Either way, you were a part of what might’ve been. 

It’d been ten years since Adrian screwed up his relationship with you. Ten years since he’d kissed you in a frat house and you’d sent him back to Evergreen. He’d seen you since then, of course. You still lived in New York, and a fancy company offered you a job right after graduation. Adrian saw you on holidays, an awkward affair that usually ended in him ducking out early, pockets stuffed with cookies to eat while he patrolled in his Vigilante suit. 

Fennel Fields doesn’t get many customers past eight. Sure, there’s the old guy at table five, the one who takes forever to finish his zoodles, and of course, how could one forget the lady who was glued to her phone over at table ten? Either way, Adrian was done wiping down the booths and tabletops.

He leans against the wall, sneaking his phone out to see if there were any texts from Pacemaker. Only twenty more minutes, and he could kick those two out, clean up their mess, and get the hell out of here. 

“Chase. What’d I say about the phone?” 

Adrian whips around to see his manager staring at him, arms crossed and that stupid crease in his brows. 

“Oh, c’mon. There’s no one here.” 

“Just put it away. Twenty minutes from now, I won’t care who you text.” 

Adrian grumbles but stuffs his phone into his pocket anyway, willing these damn stragglers to vanish into thin air. He’s turning back towards the kitchen, ready to go and bother one of the line cooks, but then the front door’s bell jingles. 

The hostess, Amber, is out on a smoke break, and the waitresses are all in the back gossiping about whatever Hollywood drama is hot now. Adrian is the only one on the floor right now. 

A woman enters, hair blocking her face from Adrian’s view, and he starts moving, getting ready to tell her the kitchen is closed, the cooks will kill him if he seats someone this close to closing. He’s a few steps from the hostess stand when she looks up at him, and he feels his heart fall out of his chest and into his ass. 

Oh. Shit. 

There are no holidays anytime soon. It’s March 11th, Easter isn’t for another month or so, and you don’t come back to Evergreen just for St. Patrick's. 

Adrian can’t believe what he’s seeing right now. He’s four feet from you. You’re staring at him like you’ve seen a ghost. 

“Is the kitchen closed?” You ask softly 

“Um, it's. No, it’s totally open.” Adrian lies 

“Oh, good. I had the worst Uber trip from the airport.” You smile, “The guy smelled like stale Fritos.” 

Adrian stands there, staring at you. He saw you a few years ago at Christmas, but he swears it's different this time. Your hair is different, and your face is even a bit different. More mature, perhaps. His eyes flick down, scanning your body. You’re polished, more reserved than what his mind conjures up in his dreams. Jesus, even your tits are- 

“Um? Adrian? Can I get a menu and a table, or are you just gonna stare at me?”  

“Right!” Adrian grabs three menus at once and then marches over to what he thinks is the best booth in the restaurant. Good lighting, not too drafty, and the cushions haven’t started ripping yet. 

“Oh hell no!” 

Adrian turns to see Greg the line cook staring at where you’re sitting down at the table. 

“We’re closed. I’m sorry, you’ll have to come back tomorrow ma’am. This idiotic busboy should’ve told you that at the door.” 

“Oh! Shoot I’m sorry.” You cover, standing back up and giving Greg a bashful smile 

“I’ll uh, see you around, Adrian.” You mumble 

Adrian watches as you walk towards the exit, and he cringes, scrunching his face together before he calls out to you, “I get out in 10ish minutes if you wanna wait! I can drive you home!” 

He watches the door swing shut behind you. Had you even heard him? 

“Dude. Quit standing there and get those other two outta here. I got to get home, my kid is waiting.” Greg orders 

To his surprise and delight, you’re leaning against his car when he walks out the back door of Fennel Fields. A cigarette dangles from your lips as you scroll through your phone. 

“Hi.” He lamely says, pulling the dumb hat off his head before he slaps it back on, remembering how awful his hat hair gets after a long shift. 

“Hey.” You hum 

Adrian leans on his car next to you. The cool air is peaceful as the smell of tobacco fills his lungs. Eventually, you drop the smoke, stamping it out before looking at him. 

“I believe a ride was offered.” 

Just like when he was 18, he loads your suitcase up into the trunk before rushing over to open the passenger side door for you. You give him a funny look before getting into his car, and he suddenly hopes his Vigilante suit is fully zipped up inside the duffel he keeps it in. 

The car ride is quiet, the hum of the radio fills the silence as the street lamps illuminate the tan interior of the Sebring every few seconds.

“So, why’re you back in Evergreen? Easter isn’t this weekend.” Adrian prods, nosy as ever 

“Surprised my mom didn’t tell you already.” You sigh 

“I don’t know what you think I do here, but regularly talking to your mom isn’t one of them,” Adrian says 

“My company transferred me out here. There’s a branch nearby that they want me to oversee.” You explain 

“Right, right. What is it you do again?” Adrian asks 

You explain your job to him for what is probably the millionth time. Adrian though is too focused on the way the yellow of the street lamps makes you look like the yellow teletubbie. He means that with affection, Teletubbies are fucking awesome. 

“What have you been up to since we last spoke at Christmas?” You ask 

Oh the usual, stopping an alien invasion, getting his secret identity revealed to four people and one butterfly. Also stabbing the White Dragon’s armor and having a helping hand in wiping out the local white supremacists. 

“Uh, nothing too cool. Just work, oh and building my beanie baby collection. I have like eight Stretches now.” 

“That’s nice.” You hum 

Adrian nervously taps his left foot, what else to say? He can’t really tell you about Chris, Ads, Harcourt, or Economos without yapping about the Butterflies. Does he tell you that Fennel Fields is getting rid of their Wednesday Wrap deal? No. that doesn't seem right. 

“Did you know the concept of swallowing a spider in your sleep is a myth?” He says quickly 

“Uh? No, thats good to know though.” 

“Yeah, they’re way more afraid of us than we think.” He says, “There go the chances of becoming Spiderman though.” 

“Wasn’t he bit by a spider?” You point out 

“Same thing.” 

“It’s actually not.” 

Adrian pulls into your driveway, rushing to grab your suitcase for you before you can even unbuckle, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 

“Unpacking, apartment hunting.” You shrug,” Boring shit.” 

“I can help. I’m off, free all day.” Adrian says 

Technically, he has plans with Chris tomorrow, those plans being getting wasted and shooting up a bunch of appliances that Adrian had been scavenging. But, he can blow that off for you; he’ll see Chris in a few days at that party at Harcourts. 

“Alright.” You agree to Adrian’s delight 

He walks you to your door, dragging your suitcase behind him, what had you brought from New York? Rocks? 

“Adrian.” You say suddenly, your hand about to press the doorbell for your mom, “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.” 

“What would that be?” Adrian asks 

“You know what I’m talking about.” You sigh 

Adrian knows what you’re hinting at. He shouldn’t get his hopes up about something more between the two of you. Maybe asking to come over was a little too over the top. Too desperate perhaps? Nah. He can keep the way his heart jumps out of his ass around you under control. 

“Platonic, with a capital P.” He assures you 

“Good.” 

The next day at 9 am sharp Adrian is back on your porch. He fixes his hair quickly in the reflection of your screen door before knocking loudly. He bounces back and forth on his heels, ignoring the text from Peacemaker about a threesome with some chick he met at a bar. 

To Adrian’s delight, you answer the door in your pyjamas. A fluffy robe sits on your shoulders and underneath a T-shirt that says “But first, Coffee.” The world’s tiniest shorts do a shitty job of covering your ass as you let him into your house. 

“I brought you a rotisserie chicken.” He says, kicking the door shut behind him

You stare at him, clearly you were still in bed, half asleep, and drowsy as you look down at the chicken in the grocery store bag and then at him again. 

“Right. Just uh put it in the fridge.” 

Adrian sits at your kitchen table while you make coffee and a big bowl of cereal. You offer him some, but he declines.

“I didn’t think you were gonna show up this early.” You mumble as you slowly eat your food 

“Well, early bird gets the worm,” Adrian says 

“You sound like my mom.” You snort 

“Well, your mom’s smart. Unlike my mom. She’s so fucking annoying.” He huffs 

“Your moms not that bad.” You shrug 

“Oh really? Yesterday she invited me to bingo. Why the hell would I want to go to bingo? I’m not 90.” 

“I like bingo alot actually.” 

“We should totally go to bingo. It’s on Wednesdays and Fridays at that Baptist church on Cornwall Street. I’ll drive.” 

“Let’s just take it one day at a time.” You say 

You lead Adrian down to the basement, he nearly trips over his shoelace but steadies himself, too scared that if he fell he’d squish and kill you. 

“You’re not moving back into your bedroom upstairs?’ Adrian asks 

“Nah, I got alot of shit from my apartment. Gonna sleep down here, then I have my own space, separate from my mom. I’ll probably move out at some point though.” 

Adrian hopes you never move out of your mom’s basement. As of today you were once again officially just around the corner from his house. His chest flutters at the idea of being able to keep tabs on you, learn your schedule and keep you safe in his Vigilante gear at night. 

“How much is a lot?” He wonders aloud.

As if on cue, you find the light switch, and Adrian is surrounded by big cardboard boxes, stacked up, some of them as tall as him. 

“Wow.” 

“You said you wanted to help.” 

When Adrian was nine, he went roller skating for the first time. You were already a pro, a regular at class parties at your local rink. Adrian was never invited to anything, so when you invited him one day, he jumped at the chance. 

He remembers the way he fell about a thousand times before he even got on the rink. Then, under a cheap disco ball, he fell a couple thousand more times. Eventually, you pulled him up to his feet, holding his hand as you slowly circled the rink. By the end of your three hours there, he could stand without holding onto the wall. 

He was taking off his skates when it had happened. Luke, a boy from your class at school was there with a few other boys from your class. Adrian was walking to the big counter where the worker was taking skate rentals back. Luke, ever the genius, snuck up behind Adrian and pushed him down. Adrian had fallen hard, the push too sudden for him to get his arms out to catch himself. His skates had flown out of his arms, and his chin had bounced off the ground, the taste of blood filling his mouth as Luke and the other boys laughed. 

You’d rushed over, told them to go to hell as you helped him up. The two of you sat outside on the curb waiting for his mom, Adrian pouting as he ran his tongue over the sore spot in his mouth and busted lip. 

“Is your face okay?” You ask 

“I think so. Hurts a lot though.” Adrian admits, gingerly running his finger along the sensitive skin 

“Wait, look at me.” You command 

Adrian looks at you. He doesn’t expect you to get real close to him, your eyes squinting at the cut on his lip. 

“My mom says kisses make injuries feel better.” You say 

“I’ve heard that. I think it’s a myth, though.” 

Adrian’s mom didn’t ever kiss cuts or bruises. Usually, she ignored them, told him he was alright, and sent him off with a Band-Aid. 

“It’s not. I’ll prove it, right now.” 

The press of your lips on his was brief. It had actually caused his lip to bleed again, but he’d never admit that to you. 

“See?” You ask hopefully 

“I think we should check again.” Adrian dumbly says 

“No, you’re fine now. Cured, actually.” You dismiss him, “That’s a secret, y’know.” 

“What?” He asks 

“The kiss, dummy.” You say, “Anyone ever asks, it never happened. Tell someone and we’re not BFFs anymore. You’ll get demoted to just a friend, not a best one.” 

“Fine.” Adrian huffs 

“Pinkie promise.” 

Two years later, Gut had teased the two of you on Adrian’s birthday, and Adrian kept his pinkie promise. A secret just between the two of you

“What’re you smiling about?” You ask looking at him from behind a stack of boxes 

Adrian chuckles, “Remember when we kissed at the roller rink?” 

“Jesus, that was ages ago.” You blush, “We were little kids.” 

“Still counts as a first kiss though.” Adrian points out 

“Whatever. Open that box up, tell me what’s in it.” You say, tossing him a box cutter. 

Adrian slices the tape open, pulling the flaps of the cardboard open to reveal the contents. 

A few knick nacks, a picture of the New York Skyline at night. Cups and plates wrapped in newspaper. 

“Mostly junk. Oh, wait!” Adrian reaches down to the bottom of the box to grab the flash of pink he saw glittering in the light 

“Oh my god! Put that away!” You screech, rushing over to him as fast as you can with all the boxes around you, “Adrian!” 

“This thing is not bad.” Adrian chuckles as he waves a dildo in the air, “Does it vibrate too? Oh my god, it does! You pervert.” 

“I’m the pervert? You’re the one waving it around like you’re Harry fucking Potter!” 

Adrian holds it above his head. He likes the way you’re grappling with his arm to pull it back down to your level. 

“Guess you’re upset I outgrew you right now.” He teases 

“Put it back in the box before I actually kill you.” You threaten, pointing a yellow handled scissors at him as your brows furr. 

“Oh c’mon we could totally have fun with this thing.” He chuckles waving it around

“Gross. No way.” You groan 

Adrian laughs, chucking it back into its box. The angry look on your face is worth a million bucks. 

“You touch any more of my sex toys and I will skin you alive.” You huff, giving him a shove 

“Yes ma’am.” Adrian salutes you, “Wait. Toys as in, you have more?” 

It takes all day to make a real dent in your many boxes of stuff from New York. Adrian, unfortunately, doesn’t come across any more sex toys to tease you about, much to his disappointment. 

The two of you end your day together in his car, munching on greasy burgers from Ben’s Burgers while Just Like Heaven by the Cure floats through the speakers softly. 

He’s yammering about spiders and his love for them, just in case you’d forgotten about that important fact when you cut him off suddenly.

“Here.” You say, suddenly, a twenty-dollar bill is waving in his face 

“Oh. You don’t have to pay me for today. I just wanted to hang out with you.” He brushes it away 

Twenty bucks is kinda lowballing him, considering he did like nine hours of work. He wasn’t going to say that outloud though, that’d be rude. 

“No, this is for our sex bet.” 

Adrian nearly chokes on his spit, “Our what?!” 

He struggles to swallow a hunk of his burger as you roll your eyes at him. 

“Back when we were like 16, we made a bet. You said that if I had sex and found out that it was actually mediocre, I’d owe you twenty. Here’s your twenty; you win.” You say stuffing the cash into his hand before reaching to swipe your fry though the ketchup he smeared onto a napkin on the dash. 

Adrian nods, remembering the conversation, “Wait. We’re both 33 right now. You’re telling me you haven’t had any good sex experiences?” 

“I don’t own that dildo for nothing, Adrian.” You roll your eyes as if its the most obvious thing ever.

That night, Adrian lies awake in bed thinking about his day with you. He hasn’t spent time like that with you in ages. He forgot what it felt like to have a best friend like you. Sure, Chris was great, but there was something about you. Sure, Adrian thought you were hot as shit, but there was something else. Perhaps it was the emotional connection you had with him. Adrian had always been one for connection over conventional attractiveness. 

He tosses and turns for another hour before groaning and reaching for his glasses. Fuck it, if he wasn’t going to sleep, he might as well be productive with his life. 

You’re sprawled out on a half-deflated air mattress when you hear your mother’s sharp scream. You race up the stairs, pulling your bathrobe on and snatching the broom up, ready to defend your mom against the intruder you expect to be in the house. 

You find her on the back patio, a broken-open garbage bag at her feet as she yells at a masked figure. You take a step closer, broom raised. As you grow closer, you recognize him, Vigilante. You think of the many articles your mother had sent you in various forms. He’s dressed like the blurry images the local news has of him. Dark black and teal suit, red visor concealing his eyes. A slop of mixed-up garbage stains his torso; your mom must’ve tossed the bag at him. 

“You’re going to give someone a heart attack, hiding behind a garbage can like that! I ought to slap you.” 

Vigilante’s red visor glints in the yellow light that streams from your house and it’s open patio door. You swear he’s staring at you for a split second but then his gaze falls back to your mom. 

“Sorry, ma’am. I thought I saw an intruder on your property.” 

That voice. It’s got a bit of familiarity to it, whoever is under the mask is making it deeper on purpose, a shitty way of covering their tracks. 

You want to tell him off, that lurking on private property is illegal, but he spins around and dashes off around the side of your house. You drop the broom, nearly tripping over your mom’s beloved cat named Pringle. You whip your front door open, flicking the porch light on in time to see Vigilante clammer into a beat-up tan car. Your eyes squint, and even in the dark you see the Chrysler logo flash as the car peels off, tires squealing in the silence of your sleepy neighborhood. 

“I tell you, whoever is under that mask has a death wish. What if I had a gun on me and not a bag of trash?” Your mother’s angry mutters dance around you while your mind spins. 

There’s only one person you know who drives a beat-up Sebring from the late 90s. 

Your back hits the air mattress again as you scroll through old photos of you and Adrian. You smile to yourself, staring at the one where he’s licking your cheek, your face scrunched up in disgust. 

There’s no way he’s Vigilante. Adrian Chase, spider enthusiast, certified goofball, the boy you grew up with, can’t possibly be a crime-fighting murderer…Right? 

The next day, Adrian is hunched over his bathtub when the doorbell rings. He’s been scrubbing his suit for nearly forty minutes straight, and the scent of old eggs and banana lingers from your mother’s assault with a garbage bag last night. In hindsight it’d been stupid to stake your house out but who could blame him? There were dangerous people out there. Just a few months ago he’d help dismantle the butterflies. And two weeks ago he’d stopped a guy trying to graffiti the side of Fennel Fields. 

“Adrian!” 

“Fuck off, mom!” Adrian shouts as he squeezes more Dawn dish soap onto his poor suit. Whatever your mother was cooking must’ve been nasty if it was fighting the power of Dawn. Didn’t they clean baby ducks with this shit? How could one old ladies cooking be stronger than an oil covered duck? 

Wait a minute…did ducks have teeth to even eat food? 

“Adrian you have a visitor!” His mother’s shrill voice yells again, so fucking annoying. 

A visitor? He’s not meeting up with Adebayo until 3 so who was knocking at his door now?

He slams the bathroom door shut, his feet thump as he walks down the steps. He expects Chris to be there holding a six-pack, but instead, he’s met with you. 

“Oh, hey.” Adrian waves at you, ignoring the way his mom is practically grinning ear to ear. He has to play it cool in front of her, otherwise she was going to start asking if he was dating you. 

“You up for a drive?” You ask, spinning a set of keys around your finger.

“I guess.” Adrian’s mind flashes to his soaking wet suit in the tub, “Give me a minute though. I need to do something.” 

“He’s been locked in the bathroom for almost an hour.” He hears his mom sigh, followed by a snort of your laughter, “I don’t know what he’s going in there…I hope it’s not what I think it is.” 

He tosses the soaking-wet suit into his laundry bin; he’ll deal with that later on. Stumbling into a well-loved pair of Converse, he messes with his hair and slips into a zip-up hoodie that isn’t soaked with bathtub water. 

His fingers tap nervously on his knees as you pull away from his house. “Where are we going?” 

“Do you remember when we were ten and promised we wouldn’t keep big things a secret from each other?” You ask calmly 

“Uh yeah. Then a couple of years later I told you about a pimple I got on my butt, and you told me you didn’t mean those kinds of big things.” Adrian says 

“Yeah, that was disgusting.” You hum with a small laugh

“Where’s this going?” Adrian asks a nervous smile on his face, he hates it when people aren’t direct with him, “And before you ask, no, I don’t have any more butt pimples.” 

You glance at him, taking in that stupid smile of his, “Are you Vigilante?” 

“Pfft…Why would I be… Are you kidding me? Me? Killing criminals? Nooooo way.” He deflects, his heart pounds in his chest, “ I don’t even know how to shoot a gun or touch my toes. What even is a Vigilante? Maybe that’s a woman under that costume. Or a nonbinary person! You shouldn’t assume Vigilante is a guy like me. 

Your tires screech as you slam on the brakes. Adrian gets half choked out by his seatbelt as he shoots forward in his seat. 

“What the fuck?” He whines, rubbing at the back of his neck

Your eyes narrow as he curses, “You’re a shitty liar, always have been and apparently, always will be.” 

“I’m not lying!” Adrian says, staring at you 

“Oh, really. So you and Vigilante have the same car, then? 

“Hey, if Vigilante was in your yard and happened to drive the same car as me, that’s not my fault. Adrian says, raising his hands in innocence, “Sebrings are reliable cars!” 

“I never said Vigilante was in my yard.” You smirk 

“I didn’t either.” He coughs, eyes fixed on the crow outside the car. 

He sure loves crows. 

Adrian’s bedroom door slams open as you push him out of the way to stumble into the room. 

“This is an invasion of privacy. We’re not kids; you can’t just barge in here!” He whines

“I know you have a suit in here. Wanna save me the hassle of finding it or are you gonna make me toss the whole room? I’m not really interested in whatever weird stuff you have in here.” You say, glancing at a taxidermied squirrel on the windowsill. 

Adrian looks at you; you can tell he’s turning it over in his head before he stomps over to his closet, pulling a wash basket out with a soaking-wet Vigilante mask right on top for you to see. 

“Ugh! Fine! You caught me!” Adrian groans “Go ahead, call the cops!” 

You watch as he flops onto his bed, burying his face in his pillows, his muffled voice falls on your ears as you stare at the mask. The red glints in the sun as you scoop it up. It smells like soap as you slip your head into it. It's a bit damp but you power through it. 

“Does this thing…have your glasses prescription in it?” You ask, stumbling around as the world becomes blurry 

“Uh, yeah.” Adrian’s voice fills your ears.

He removes his face from his pillows only to find his own mask staring back at him. It looks dorky on you, mismatched with the jeans and t-shirt you’re wearing. 

You pull it off your head, your hair a mess as you toss it to him before sitting down on the bed beside him. 

“Are you gonna have me arrested?” He asks quietly, worried that you might just turn him in 

You shrug, “I’ve read the news articles. You kill criminals. I don’t see any reason to turn you in over that.” 

He sighs, relieved that he won’t have to tie you up in his secret room to keep you silent. That would seriously suck. 

Your eyes sweep over his room, taking in the differences since you’d last seen it as a teenager. Underneath the different wallpaper and glow of the lamp you can see the little boy you’d grown up with. Gone are the race car sheets and Captain America pin-up posters. A small polaroid of the two of you at prom sits taped to his dusty mirror, next to it a picture of a group of people you’ve never seen before. Adrian holds up a peace sign as his gaze escapes the camera lens, looking at something off to his right. 

“Oh shit, I guess that means I can tell you about my new friends.” Adrian jumps up, pulling the picture off the mirror to shove into your hands. 

He runs through the names, pointing at each person until he gets to Peacemaker. 

“I still can’t believe Chris walks around and calls himself Peacemaker.” You chuckle 

“Why not? He’s awesome. Plus, Eagly is super cool.” Adrian says 

“Eagly? Who’s Eagly?” You ask 

You can’t believe what you’re seeing. A bald eagle, the symbol of the country is squawking at you as he eats a potato chip from Christopher Smith’s hand. Seriously, what the fuck? 

“Where does a person even get a bald eagle?’ You ask Chris 

“Oh y’know, just…around.” He vaguely gestures to the air 

You blink a few times. Real well said. 

“Awesome, right?” Adrian laughs at your expression 

“Uh, yeah I guess.” You say, watching Eagly nip at Chris. 

“Dude.” Chris calls to Adrian 

“What?” Adrian asks 

You watch Chris start making faces at Adrian, pointing at you, then himself, then at Adrian, and then the door. Then he winks and makes a circle with his finger. You glance at Eagly, then Adrian. What the fuck was happening. 

“Dude, what?” Adrian asks 

Yeah, you were pretty sure, Adrian Chase, misser of all body language missed whatever the hell Chris was trying to say. 

“You wanna go out drinking with us tonight?” Chris asks, “I know this loser won’t ask you.” 

“Oh, I dunno…I wouldn’t wanna intrude on a guys night.” You falter, you’re not really one to hang out with people like Chris, how did he and Adrian even end up being friends? The last time you saw Chris he was still hanging around Gut. 

“If you’re planning on asking to have a threesome with her, forget it, she’s my friend, not yours.” Adrian scoffs, stepping in between you and Chris

“What? Dude, no! Ads and I are going out tonight; we can invite her and call Harcourt and Economos to join.” Chris says, “Besides, everyone knows you’re totally in love with her, and as nice as her ass is in those jeans, I’m not going to move in on your girl.” 

“Shut up!” Adrian groans, “Stop telling her all my secrets; now I won’t get to tell her that her ass looks good in those jeans!” 

“You can literally tell her right now!” Chris points at you, dodging a decorative pillow Adrian has scooped up and tossed at his head

You roll your eyes; these two are something else. Chris had certainly changed since high school. At least now you know Adrian wasn’t sitting around Evergreen all alone without you. You felt guilty for not visiting more. Sure, part of it was because after that night in college you’d felt sorta awkward around him, but you still wanted him in your life. 

Adrian fixed his hair for the millionth time as he fidgeted in the driver’s seat. It was half past six, he’d been sitting in your driveway for no more than two minutes and he was already sweating. He’d dropped you off around three, insisting he’d pick you up and drive you to the bar Chris had texted him the address to. He’d have to be careful tonight, no getting wasted with you as his passenger. It’s probably better he didn’t go overboard anyway, no telling what he’d say to you if he drank too much. 

You skip out of your house, a cute sundress on your figure as you pull the doorshut behind you. Part of him wants to get out an open the passenger door for you but you’d made him swear not to turn anything romantic. So he fights his instinct and lets you open your own door, greeting you with a smile that probably looks as stupid as it feels. 

“Sup!” 

Stupid! Why’d he say that?! He’d spent all day with you yesterday and he was still acting awkward. Jesus when was he going to get a grip on social skills! 

“What’s up, Adrian?” You hum, not missing a beat as you pull your seatbelt across your lap 

God, you were so cool. 

The Vigilante-Mobile cruises along as you tap your fingers to the beat of the song on the radio. 

“So is this bar any good?” You ask him 

“Oh, yeah I guess. It closes at 11 though.” Adrian shrugs, “Everywhere else closes up at ten so Chris likes this place more.” 

You nod, “Go over everyone's names for me again.” 

When Adrian was 16, he had a dream he was dating you. You were his and he was yours. You’d walk to class together, holding hands, and sneak under the bleachers to make out instead of sitting in Algebra class. 

It was so realistic that when he woke up, he was actually confused that you weren’t his girlfriend for real. He’d called you, glasses still on his nightstand, his voice scratchy with sleep. You’d picked up on the second ring and he happily listened to you talk to him about everything and nothing at all.  

The next day he had to fight off the urge to sling his arm over your shoulders as you walked next to him, panicking about your Chemistry test you had later on. He was supposed to be quizzing you from the flashcards you’d shoved in his hands but all he could focus on was the way your hair was shimmering in the fluorescent lighting. He liked the way your nose scrunched up when you read something from your notes on electrons. He really liked the way your shirt was dipping just a bit lower than it normally did, and fuck did he love the way your strawberry body wash smelled when you leaned into him, saying something about flashcards. 

The bar was decently crowded. Friday night brought more people out as Adrian led you through the groups of people towards where Chris was waving at you from the back. You took a chance and admired Adrian’s back as his hand gently tugged you along; his fingers were long and nimble, easily blanketing yours. He’d filled out over the years, gone was the wiry frame he had when you were teenagers, he hid himself under loose hoodies and sweaters, but you could tell he was definitely more muscular than he was when he’d visited you back in college. 

When you finally reach Adrian’s little friend group you’re greeted with a series of hellos and smiles. 

“Adrian has told us all about you.” One woman, who you’re presuming is Adebayo, smiles 

“Probably a little too much,” The blonde woman chimes in, sipping at her beer 

“Well, excuse me for wanting to tell you about my best friend.” Adrian counters, pulling up a chair for you to sit in 

“Dude, I thought I was your best friend.” Chris says 

“You’re second.” Adrian says 

“Yeah, well, we don’t need to know that she has a mole on her right shoulder blade, Adrian.” The tall man, John Economos, says with a groan 

“I could’ve told you wayyy more, for example, when we were kids I accidentally opened her drawers and saw all her training bras. “ Adrian starts 

“Shut up.” You groan, elbowing his side as she sits down next to you, “I told you that you weren’t allowed to talk about that.” 

“Oh shit, I remember that! Then you thought that even guys had to wear bras.” Chris laughs 

“Oh my god.” You chuckle, staring at Adrian who’s face has gone red 

“What made you think men wore bras?” Harcourt asks 

“My brother had one under his bed.” Adrian shrugs 

“Did you ever see him wearing it?” Adebayo asks 

“Well…no, but-” 

You pat Adrian’s back, “Alright, I think that's enough of that, pre-pubescent Adrian and the bra saga is a memory we don’t need to dive into.” 

The night wears on as you drink your way into a pleasant level of drunkenness. Adrian has been nursing a beer all night; you swear he hasn’t even gotten a second one. 

Loud unnamed music pours through the speakers as you make your way back to the table, leaving Adebayo on the dance floor. Harcourt sits on a barstool, swearing off all of Chris’ attempts to get her to dance with him. 

“You’re a lot cooler than I thought you’d be.” She says as you sit next to her, taking a long sip of her drink 

“Did you think I was gonna be lame?” You laugh 

“Adrian described you…a bit oddly.” She admits

“How so?” You ask 

“Well…” She glances at Adrian, who was currently pulling out the famous butt dance next to John, “He, and I’m quoting here, called you, a perfect goddess from above, sent to him from the kindergarten Fisher Price fake kitchen set.” 

“What?” You laugh, what the hell did that even mean? He was such a dork. 

“He also once got a bit too drunk once and us he was a peasant unfit to breathe the same air as you.” She says 

“Oh god.” You groan, “He’s a bit nuts, I’m sorry.” 

Emilia Harcourt agrees with you as she laughs into her drink when you tell her about the time Adrian knocked a tooth out after tripping up the escalator at the mall after telling you he didn’t need to tie his shoes. 

“He says you rejected him.” She says, “Not that I blame you…He’s alot to handle.” 

“It was years ago.” You sigh, staring at the sticky table top, “We were drunk and I wasn’t sure what I wanted back then.” 

She nods, “I get it, not knowing what you want.” 

You follow her gaze to where she stares at Chris who is badly dancing to the music. 

“Maybe I’m saying this cuz’ I’m drunk, maybe not, but you do know he’s still hung up on you, right?” She asks you 

Adrian had described the woman next to you as cold, mean, and scary. Yet, you were here sitting next to her talking about what you both wanted from a relationship. And sure, you weren’t sure what she saw in Chris but there must’ve been something there, underneath all those muscles and weird haircut. 

“I’m aware.” You hum, “He’s terrible at hiding it.” 

She agrees with you before asking another question, 

“Are you hung up on him?” 

Adrian pulls you onto the dance floor a few minutes later. He’s drinking another drink now; he shouts in your ear that it’s just soda and that he’ll get you home safe and DUI-free. 

Multi colored lights flash as you move along to the beat of an old song from the 2000’s. Adrian spins you around, his scent invading your mind; it weaves its way through the grooves of your brain until there's nothing left but thoughts of him and that smile he loves to give you. 

You’ve never felt more alive and dead at the same time as he leads you toward the bathrooms when you ask him where they are. He stands in line with you, blabbering about crows and manta rays and spiders and god only knows what else. 

You can barely focus on the fact that apparently manta rays were his favorite animal of the day as he presses closer to you to make space in the cramped hallway for other people to get by. The soft glow of the yellow bulb that dangled above the two of you made him look angelic. Around you, strangers laugh and chat as the line slowly stumbles forward.

What were you here for? Oh, right, you had to pee. 

Adrian’s hair was a little damp with sweat, his curls sticking up in different directions as he said something about spiders and their eggs. 

You giggle, God, he was pretty, like some made-up fantasy that would vanish if you closed your eyes for too long. Was he always like this, or was it the drinks in your stomach talking? Either way, you don’t want him to go anywhere; you like him this close. 

Chris watches from the dance floor as you wait in line for the bathroom with Adrian. Christopher Smith was no hopeless romantic; he knew what it looked like when a girl was interested, he knew there was something deep down in Harcourt, why else would she still accept his hang out invites. She was covert though, hard to read and mean if he asked her outright. 

If Emilia Harcourt was a covert government agent with her feelings, you were the opposite. Christ, he’s never seen a girl more into a guy than right now. Adrian is blabbing away about something only he could talk about and you’re standing there. Are you listening? Chris had no damn idea, but you look like you’re two seconds away from pulling Adrian in for the kiss of a lifetime. 

Adrian can’t believe this is happening. Seriously, what even was his life? 

After a short drive from the bar to your place, he had managed to get you into your house while you laughed and told him his hair was softer than the cat that was meowing at him for more food. 

He’d driven you back while you loudly sang to Brittney Spears and used an old Gatorade bottle as a mic. He, of course, had joined in, but it was hard to keep his focus on the lyrics when you kept running your hands up and down his body as he tried to stay at the speed limit. 

How many damn drinks did you have? He swore you’d only had a couple. Maybe you were a lightweight. Or maybe you’d had way more and he just couldn’t count. Either way whatever you’d drunk had led to this. 

“C’mere.” You mumble, pulling him into you as you sit down on your bed. 

“No, it’s time for bed. You need to take off your shoes.” Adrian says 

“I like my shoes.” You hum 

“Yes, they’re nice; now take them off so you can lie down,” Adrian says 

Jesus, how was he the responsible one right now? You always were the one with your head screwed on straight, not him. 

“I like youuu.” You sing, “You’re really pretty and have such nice hair.” 

Adrian’s face heats up. He’d waited years to hear those words leave your lips. It wasn’t right though, you were drunk off your ass and would probably say the same thing to Economos right now. 

“I thought I was gonna die earlier. In that bathroom hallway when you were talking about manta rays. So pretty and sweet, I was seriously gonna drop dead if you kept talking to me back there.” You laugh, “Vigilante kills woman with his looks! New headline for the news tomorrow.” 

“Uh huh, sure.” He chuckles 

You’re a funny drunk at least. This is going better than the last time the two of you drank. 

“Shoes off.” Adrian hums, kneeling down to slip your shoes off your feet 

“Hey, those’re mine.” You grumble 

“And if you don’t lie down I’ll take them and wear them myself.” He counters 

“Your fat feet will stretch them out. You’re way bigger than me now and I bet your feet are ugly too.” You groan as your head hits the pillow, “Men always have ugly feet.” 

Adrian looks down at his own shoe covered feet. Where his feet ugly? What constituted a good looking foot? He glances at yours, well yours were nice. Yeah, he had ugly feet. 

He turns to leave, dropping your shoes on the floor. 

“Wanna have a sleep over? Like when we were kids?” You ask

“I dunno, it’s probably not a good idea.” 

Adrian doesn’t want to overstep. He wants to, god he wants to. He wants to climb into bed next to you and fall asleep to the sound of your breathing. He wants to wake up to your hair tickling his nose in the morning. 

But, this is the drinks talking, not you. He wants the real you to say all this to him. He wants to jam out to Brittney with you while you’re sober. 

“Please?” 

“I’ll see you later.” Adrian insists 

A beat of silence and then you speak again, softer this time, sadness in your voice, “Please, Adrian, don’t leave, I don’t want to be alone anymore.” 

Adrian sleeps on top of the covers despite your protests. He switches off the bedside light as you thank him for staying. How could he leave? He doesn’t want you to be alone either. 

The next morning comes with the sound of vomiting and groaning. Adrian springs out of bed and wraps his hands around your hair, pulling it out of the way as you curse all alcohol. 

“Thank you.” You groan as he brings you a glass of water. 

“Mmmhm.” He says 

Even hungover, you’re pretty. Your dress from last night is still on, and he notices the little design on the fabric isn’t flowers at all, but instead, it’s spiders. 

“Are those spiders? That’s so cool!” Adrian asks, running a finger across the fabric on your shoulder 

“Yeah, I was kinda bummed you didn’t notice last night.” You say, standing up to flush the toilet 

“Where’d you get it?” Adrian wants a shirt with spiders on it. 

“Back in New York, actually.” You say, pawing through your clothing that still sits in a box, “I uh, saw it and thought of you. Had to buy it just in case.” 

“Sick!” Adrian grins as he spins around to face the wall. “You can get changed; I won’t peek, promise.” 

When you’re dressed in a soft-looking pair of sweats and a worn-in T-shirt, Adrian watches you brush your teeth before following you up the steps to the kitchen. 

Over bowls of Fruit Loops, he admires the way the morning sun dances across your skin.

“So, how much do you remember from last night?” Adrian asks, he has to know, how hammered were you?  How much of that was real? 

“Er…Uh.” You stir your cereal

“Remember our no secrets promise.” Adrian finds himself saying

“All of it.” You whisper 

All of it? No. That can’t be right, you were drunk, really really drunk last night. You had like a billion drinks, no way you remembered it all. 

“I’m a lightweight. I had like two drinks.” You admit, “I was drunk but not blacked out.” 

“So when you said I was pretty…” He trails off 

“I meant it.” You sigh, “Alcohol kinda steals my filter. I just say whatever I think.” 

Adrian sits back, his mind turning over the past twelve hours. What the actual fuck? 

“I know you’re not good with feelings. I just…last night Harcourt said you weren’t over me. I guess a part of me always knew that, but hearing it was different. I’m just, I dunno…” 

“Just what?” Adrian asks 

He wants to hear what you’re going to say. Scratch that, he needs to hear it. If you knew what you were doing last night, then why were you so pensive about his feelings? 

“I’m lonely.” You sigh, “I wanted a night with a guy who wanted me.” 

“So you played with my feelings?” Adrian finds himself bitterly spitting out 

“No!” You exclaim, grabbing his wrist when he goes to stand up 

You pull him back down with a strength he didn’t know you had. 

“Adrian, I like you too. A lot actually. I think I have for years.” 

He wants to kiss you. He wants to vault across the table and kiss you senseless. The sadness in your eyes keeps him grounded. 

“I just…I’m a mess. I moved back to Evergreen after breaking off my engagement. I’m literally an unemployed loser right now because he had his dad fire me after I gave him his ring back.” You gush 

“When did you get engaged?” Adrian asks 

He had no idea you were seeing someone that seriously. 

“Six months ago. We were dating for a year before that.” You say, “I met him at a company dinner; his dad was my department head.” 

“What’s his name?” Adrian asks, maybe he can catch a flight and kill his fucker for hurting you 

“Is that really important?” You sigh 

“No, as long as you promise not to go back to him,” Adrian says, oh he’s so gonna find this piece of shit one day.

“We’re definitely over.” You chuckle softly, “I promise.” 

“Why’d you dump him?” Adrian asks, curious about what led to your ex-fiancé’s downfall. 

You hesitate for a second, face pensive before speaking again, “You. I left him to come home to you.” 

At nine, Adrian doesn’t know much about girls. He knows they like the color pink and hate mud.  They also like to laugh at him and point at his new glasses. He got them four days ago after the school nurse sent him home with a note for his mom that he failed the yearly eye exam the school made students do. 

He’d picked the frames himself, a nice wire frame, something that he thought would make him look smart. He saw a book where a picture of a scientist was wearing glasses like the ones that sat on his face now. 

They had the opposite effect, though; kids at school were calling him nerd now and four eyes. Even Chris had told him they were a bit nerdy before disappearing into Gut’s room. Adrian pulled the stupid things off his face with nothing but hatred for them. Sure it was nice to actually be able to see whatever the teacher wrote on the chalkboard, he wasn’t even aware that his eyes were bad until he wore them in class for the first time. But now, whatever chance he had at friends was being flushed down the toilet. 

“Adrian! Your friend is here!” His mom yells up the stairs 

No! You hadn’t seen him with his glasses yet! You’d been sick for the past few days and had been spared from the onslaught of nerd Adrian was now exuding. 

“Adrian?” 

You push his bedroom door open to see him halfway to hiding the offending pair of eyewear under his pillow. 

“Oh. My. Gosh.” 

“I know, they’re stupid. Maybe I can get contacts instead.” Adrian sighs staring at them and then back at you 

“No way!” You gasp, jumping onto the bed to sit beside him as you scoop them from his hands. You slip them onto his face with ease and even push them up his nose when they slip down a bit, “You look so cool!” 

“What? No, I don’t. Shut up.” Adrian can feel himself blushing now.

“You do, though! You look extra smart. Like you’re going to blow something up in a science lab.” 

Adrian turns the idea over in his head; he does like the idea of blowing stuff up. 

“You gotta keep ’em.” You declare 

“Fine…but only if you let me win the first three rounds of Super Mario,” Adrian says 

You shake his hand, a deals a deal. 

As Adrian sits there and kicks your butt, glasses helping him see the TV screen, he decides that not all girls are the same. And sure, you might be wearing a pink t-shirt right now and definitely don’t like mud; he can’t help but feel like you’re different, special, and made just for him. 

“What’d you say after that?” 

“Huh? Oh, I uh might’ve just…” Adrian sighs

“Might’ve just what?!” Chris exclaims 

“I said cool. Then I asked her if I could have a second bowl of Fruit Loops before leaving.” 

“What?!! What the fuck!?” 

“Pringle, do you think I did something wrong?” 

Your mother’s calico stares up at you blinking slowly as she sits beside you on her cat tree. 

“I like totally told him I broke off my engagement for him and he just went cool and ate another bowl of cereal before leaving!” You groan 

Pringle lets out a mew as she licks her paw. 

“Exactly. He…ooo that idiot.” You grunt, “Adrian's always been kinda spacey when it comes to reading other people but I didn’t think he’d be that dim. I practically threw myself at him last night when I was drunk.”

Pringle meows again, and you sigh, “Maybe he’s not into me anymore. Harcourt said he was but that doesn’t mean anything unless he actually is.”

“Do you think he’d still want me? Even now?” You ask Pringle 

She gives you a sweet-sounding mrrp as you scratch behind her ears. 

Approximately one month ago in New York City…

The sounds of the traffic were drowned out by the sounds of the shower. City lights twinkled as you pulled a soft throw blanket over your lap, your bed was soft and warm as you sighed. Your tablet rested in your lap, Instagram’s search sat idle as you wrestled with the idea in your mind. 

Your engagement ring sat on your finger. A dazzlingly large reminder of the wife you were about to become. 

Fuck it. Why not? 

Your fingers tapped at the keyboard, typing quickly before you could hesitate.

adrian_chase_91

His page was pretty bare. 35 followers, following 359. Four posts total, one of a spider, the next of an owl. The third was a blurry sunset picture. The latest, posted three months ago, actually had him in it, he’s smiling, pointing at a ridiculous billboard that says Try My Nuts! Nut Emporium 3.4 mi Exit 45A. 

It’s ridiculous. He’d obviously pulled over and propped his phone up just to take a picture of himself and a billboard. And yet, it’s so uniquely him, unapologetic and brash, 100% Adrian. 

You laugh quietly and the shower water switches off. Your fiancé, Alex emerged, a towel slung around his waist as he pads over to his closet to pull out clothes. 

You glance back at your tablet, Adrian and his stupid nut billboard look back at you and you feel your stomach swim. Looking back at Alex uncertainty fills your mind. When had you ever felt close to him the way you did with Adrian? 

Honestly, you never did. 

You take a deep breath, shutting your tablet off before looking up at a now dressed Alex who is scrolling on his phone. 

“I think we should break up.” 

March was uncharacteristically warm this year in Evergreen. The sun was a little sliver as you slowly strolled through your neighborhood.  One earbud stuck in your ear while the other dangled and swung around as you admired the pretty rose bush Mr. and Mrs. Lowry had grown along their fence. 

You fiddled with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, staring up at the street sign. This was Adrian’s street. You’d spent many years biking down this street, screeching to a stop in his driveway before sprinting into his room to show him whatever cheesy comic you’d found at the library. 

You debate walking down the street, you can’t see Adrian’s house from here, but he’s probably off at Fennel Fields. You’re pretty sure he said he works Friday nights. 

The loud sound of a car horn has you spinning around. A beat up tan Sebring is driving towards you, it’s driver, Adrian of course, has his hand stuck out the window waving at you. 

He stops in front of you, blocking the intersection with little care for anyone who might want to drive down this way. 

“Hey.” You offer lamely 

“Hey.” Adrian hums

It’d been two days since you saw him, two days since he’d held your hair back over the toilet and eaten Fruit Loops with you at your dining room table. Two days since you admitted to basically giving up your entire life in New York for him. 

“What’s up?” You ask 

“Nothing really. I was about to go out and patrol, I left my favorite gun at home, though.” Adrian explains 

Your eyes flick down, scanning his body. It’s the first time you’ve actually seen the Vigilante gear on his body since he’d been caught by your mom in your backyard. The mask sits in the backseat ontop of what looks like his bus boy uniform. 

“Oh, that’s nice.” You nod, “Good luck then.” 

You begin to walk off, swearing that you could hear Adrian cursing at himself in his car behind you. 

“You wanna come with me?” He calls 

You spin around, looking at him with doubt on your face, “You want to take me on a patrol…while dressed like that?” 

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs, “You’re safest with me anyway.” 

You seriously must have lost some brain cells recently. Here you are, sitting on a park bench in the dark with Adrian who is in full Vigilante costume now. His favorite gun is sitting strapped to his side as he rambles about how some drug dealers like to use this park sometimes. 

“I think I should just go home.” You say, “I don’t think I’m cut out to be staking out drug deals.” 

“What? No! You’re totally cut out for it!” Vigilante exclaims 

“What will I do to stop them? Strangle with with my earbuds?” You scoff, swinging the cord in his face 

“You could.” He shrugs, “It’d be kinda hot too.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure it would be.” You roll your eyes 

Adrian, or rather, Vigilante, drums his fingers on his thigh, a nervous habit Adrian picked up years ago. It’s usually followed by an outlandish question or statement that no one ever had an answer to. 

“You don’t seem like, weirded out that I’m Vigilante.” He says 

“Like I said a couple of days ago, you kill criminals, not innocents.” You say, “Why should I have a problem with that?” 

He shrugs, “I dunno. I also killed a race of alien Butterflies by helping Chris send Adebayo rocketing through their only food source.” 

“Oh…uh, thank you?” You say, unsure of what kind of response you should be giving him right now 

“You’re welcome; it’s all in a day's work.” He says, pretending to crack his knuckles 

“So Adrian did you give any thought to what I said in my house a few days ago? Like, did you wanna talk about it more?” You prod him 

“Who’s Adrian?” He dumbly says 

Good lord he was going to be the death of you. 

“Sorry, Vigilante, have you thought some more about what I said?” 

“Well, I-Oh shit. Don’t move.” 

You follow Vigilante’s gaze to where four sweatshirt clad figures are entering the park. They walk in pairs and slowly stroll towards each other all eventually meeting under a gazebo. 

It doesn’t take a genius to see the small brown paper bag one of them slips the other two. 

“Welp, that’s my cue.” Vigilante hums, “Feel free to snap some super awesome pictures of me in action, I wanna put some on the wall in my secret room.” 

What? Pictures? Did he seriously expect you to play the action photographer? 

You watch as Vigilante crosses the park in long strides, from your spot on the bench about two hundred feet away you can hear his loud voice travel across the grass. 

“What kind of drugs is it tonight? Fentanyl? Weed? Don’t tell me it’s cocaine!” 

His voice sounds a bit odd. Sure it’s muffled from the mask but at the same time, it’s a different tone you don’t remember ever hearing him use. He sounds almost giddy and slightly unhinged. You can practically hear his smile even though he’s not facing you anymore. 

“Can you fuck off?” One guy says 

“This doesn’t concern you. What even are you? Some clown going to Comic Con?” Another scoffs 

“When I go to Comic Con, I dress up as Hatsume Miku, thank you very much.” Vigilante counters 

“What the fuck?” One laughs, “This guy cannot be real.” 

“Hold on, Tod, I know this dude.” The last one says, “Yeah. I saw him on the news at my grandma’s. This is that Vigilante dude. He likes to run around and kill people for littering and shit.” 

“Well, we didn’t litter, so fuck off, Virginante.” 

“First off, I’m not a virgin. Second, could you guys make sure I get some good angles? My super cool best friend is here, and I want her to get some sweet pictures of me shooting your faces in.” 

Faster than you can blink, Vigilante is whipping out a knife from his waistband and slamming it into one of the drug dealers' stomachs. 

“Oh fuck!” his buddy curses

. You’re too shocked to even pull your phone out for the pictures Vigilante wants you to take. Vigilante pivots, freeing his knife as one guy goes to try to punch him in the face. He dodges with ease and knees the guy instead. 

The dealer doubles over and Viiglante pulls his gun out, the one he’d gone back to his house for and unloads a clean shot into the drug dealer’s head. 

You’re frozen as the scene continues on. One man tackles Vigilante to the ground, and the gun flies out of his hands and lands halfway between you and him. 

“Hold him down.” The second to last guy orders his friend 

“I’m putting this walking condom out of his misery.” 

You watch with wide eyes as he pulls a gun from the big pocket on the front of his sweatshirt. 

“Ha, condom! Condoms are important gentlemen. Safe Sex always.” 

Vigilante is laughing, you can hear it as you run for the gun that sits between the two of you. As scared as you are, you’re not about to watch your friend get shot in the head while attempting to stop a drug deal. 

“Adrian!” You yell 

The men holding Vigilante down look over at you as you scoop the gun up and run towards them. 

“Aw shit, now you have to die. She said my name.” Vigilante says loudly, “Let me up so I can kill you” 

Your feet hit the gazebo and all three men look at you. 

“You have some girl as your sidekick?” The one holding Vigilante laughs 

“You having a good evening with this piece of shit?” The one holding the gun asks, “We could show you a better time I bet.” 

He takes a long stride towards you and you nearly jump out of your skin. He leans in towards you and takes a deep inhale. His face is practically touching yours as he crouches down to be eye level with you. 

“A piece of ass like this is wasted on a guy like that-” 

 Without truly thinking about what comes next you jam the gun into his still speaking mouth. Then, you squeeze your eyes shut and pull the trigger. Hot blood covers your face as you fall backwards onto your ass. The gun slips from your grasp as your ears ring. 

Your arm tingles as you try to get your bearings. Blood covers your eyes as you call out Adrian’s name. 

Vaguely, you hear the sound of another gunshot before the feel of gloved fingers on your face. They wipe at your eyes until the feeling of blood is mostly gone. 

Vigilante is crouched down and staring at you. He’s saying something but you’re half deaf. Then, he hugs you and excitedly points at the dead bodies around the two of you. 

You let him lead you out of the park and back towards the car. He cruises down the road at exactly 25 while your hearing slowly comes back. 

“And we should totally do this again next week.” 

You can’t concentrate on his voice as you stare down at your blood soaked body. What the fuck just happened? You shot a man in the face and now you’re covered in his blood while Vigilante drives you around town. 

“You have no idea how hot that was.” He laughs 

“Adrian, stop the car.” 

“Okay we can’t do this again if you keep calling me that while I’m wearing this.” He says sternly

“Adrian!” You yell at him, “Pull the fuck over.” 

Vigilante pulls the car over. He watches as you unbuckle and stumble out of the car. Where were you going like that?  

He pulls off his mask, tired of the smell of his own breath before shutting the car off and following you to where you’re walking off. 

“Where are we going?” Adrian asks 

No answer as you slowly plod along. 

“If we’re headed home we can just get back in my car. I was gonna swing by the mini mart for some Doritos but we can postpone that.” He says 

“I just shot someone.” You say, “I killed him.” 

“And it was totally awesome.” Adrian laughs, “We should get a cake to celebrate. I think the grocery store is open til’ eleven.” 

“No!” You snap, “No cake, Adrian! I just shot a guy in the face and you want to celebrate? I should be going to jail!” 

“Uh technically he should be jail since he was selling drugs. That bag had heroin in it.” Adrian says 

You should be glad right now, stopping a drug deal and helping remove drugs off the streets. Yet you’re staring at him like he’s just grown a second head. 

You groan, sitting down on the curb 

Adrian sits next to you, silence settling over the two of you as he taps his fingers together. You’re upset, clearly he must’ve underestimated your coolness with what he did in his night hours. 

“Y’know…what you did isn’t any different than what I do on a regular basis. Those guys weren’t good people.” He says softly 

“I know that.” You mumble 

“So why’re you so upset? Besides the whole, covered in blood and shot a dude in the face part?” He asks 

You were upset when he picked you up on his street. He knew what it looked like when you had something on your mind. He’d know the look anywhere. It was the same look you used to give a challenging problem in math class years ago. 

“You were upsetting me.” You say, “You and your stupid hair and dorky glasses.” 

“My hair is upsetting you?” Adrian asks, running a hand through the messy locks on his head. He knew they were unruly but he didn’t know they were pissing you off. Maybe he needed hair gel. 

“It’s everything the hair is attached to.” You sigh, “I drop hints and tell you I left my old life for you and instead you take me out to a park where I end up shooting a guy in the face to save your ass.” 

“Hints?” 

“Oh, my god.” You groan, “I’m in love with you, like fully in love. I know I am now since I just shot a guy and I’m still thinking about what your biceps might look like under that stupid suit of yours!”

Adrian glances down at his biceps and then back at you. Did he mishear you? Maybe he’d fully lost it. Chris always told him he was insane. Maybe it’d finally happened and he’d lost his mind. 

“Wait, what?” He dumbly says, what did you say? He needs to hear that again. 

Instead of getting what he wants, though, you’re grabbing him by the collar of his suit and slamming your lips into his. 

He lets out what could only be described as a squeak as he tries to kiss you back. He’s two seconds away from crying as the taste of you fills his mind. His hands nervously wring together as you pull backwards and rest your forehead against his. 

“Let’s go home, Vigilante.” You softly say 

He can’t focus on anything other than you as he drives along. He doesn’t know what you meant by home so he pulls into his driveway. You unbuckle first and he quickly commands you to stop what you’re doing. 

He clambers out of his car and nearly trips on his feet as he pulls the passenger-side door for you. 

“Were you serious?” He breathes heavily as you stand up, the car door between him and you, “About being in love with me, were you serious?” 

“I don’t shoot people in the face for people I’m not in love with, Adrian.” You say

A beat of silence. 

Holy shit.

Holy shit. 

You’re in love with him. His best friend is in love with him. 

He feels like he’s going to throw up and pass out all at the same time. 

“Uhm, do you wanna go inside with me? We can play Princess Peach Showtime, and I’ll  DoorDash Taco Bell.” He blurts 

Stupid! No girl as hot as you wants Taco Bell! He should’ve said McDonald's! 

“Only if we can make out too.” You laugh 

“Yeah, totally, we can, I can do that.” He says 

Adrian leads you into his house, he’s seconds away from pulling you into his room when you detour and yank him into the bathroom instead. 

“We can’t play Princess Peach Showtime like this.” You say 

Adrian watches wide eyed as you start pulling your blood soaked clothes off your body. 

“I’ll turn around.” He says quickly, whirling around to look at the door. 

The water turns on and the shower curtain is peeled open as steam fills the room. 

“Are you coming in or what?” 

Adrian takes less than a minute to pull his Vigilante gear off and join you under the warm water. You delight in the feel of the water beating against your face, washing off the blood that had dried on your skin. 

“Hi…”Adrian says when you spin around to face him 

“Hi.” You smile 

You wash his back for him and after he asks three times you relent and let him wash your hair. His hands weave conditioner through your wet hair and you shiver when he presses his lips to the nape of your neck. 

“We’re going to smell the same now.” He whispers into your ear 

You smile, leaning backwards into him so the back of your head rests on his shoulder, “Good, just the way I like it.” 

Adrian presses three sweet kisses to your neck before his hands begin wandering from your waist to the underside of your breasts. 

“Is this okay?” He asks 

“Yes.” You breathe, it’s more than okay. 

He runs a thumb across your nipple and you arch backwards into his hardness. He sucks a deep breath in and laughs softly. 

“We should stop before I get carried away.” He says 

You snort and roll your eyes, spinning around to face him, “What if I want you to get carried away.” 

Adrian gives you a funny look, the warm water streaming down his body as he not so subtly glances down at your chest again, “Well then we should probably get out of the shower then. I need my glasses.” 

You laugh, loudly this time. No matter how old he got, you could always count on Adrian to say something that others would find hilariously awkward.

“Not my fault I’m blind.” He says as you get out of the shower and wrap a towel around your body 

He yelps as you pinch his ass as he leads you back to his room. 

“Put a towel on next time. This isn’t a nudist colony.” You scold 

“That was my sensitive butt cheek.” He whines

“So your other one isn’t as sensitive?” You ask 

“Duh.” He says, digging in his drawers for clothing. He slips into a pair of boxers and glares at you while you laugh at him

“You’re so stupid.” You laugh, “C’mere.” 

Adrian listens to you and he lets you guide him to sit on the bed. He blushes when you straddle him. 

“Oh, I didn’t think you were being serious.” He stammers 

“I never joke about sex, Adrian.” You say, “Unless you want to stop.” 

You hadn’t factored in the idea that Adrian might be uncomfortable with all this so soon. You knew he didn’t feel the same way most people did about physical affection. Erections didn’t mean anything if the guy attached to them hated the feel of human skin on his. 

“No! We can keep going,” He says, “I just…I wanna remember this so…”

“We’ll go slow, baby.” 

Adrian looks like he’s ready to melt into you as soon as the pet name leaves your lips. 

You thread your fingers through his wet hair as he gently kisses you. The kiss deepens when your run your hands down his chest. 

“I feel like I’m about to explode.” Adrian confesses, “This is like all my wet dreams come to life.” 

“Is this you finally admitting you’re a pervert?” You laugh 

“Can I eat you out?” 

Adrian’s question has your face heating up as you try to keep your nerve. So bold, so brash, so Adrian. 

“Please?” He asks again 

“Alright.” You smile 

Adrian gently pulls the towel from your body and lets you trade places with him on the bed, you on your back as he shuffles to lie down between your thighs. 

Your legs part a bit and he groans deeply, “Fuck me.” 

Electric shoots through your spine as he mouths at your inner right thigh. Your mind registers something that sounds like Adrian whispering something that sounds like praise before he sucks your clit into his mouth Your hips jump at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, his name leaving your lips as you fist the sheets. His tongue slips down to your hole, a groan leaving his lips as he laps at your wetness. 

Adrian hums into you as he presses a kiss to you, “Are you okay?” 

“Yes.” You gasp back 

“You sound like your soul is being sucked out.’ He comments 

“Just keep going.” You order 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Your hips pull up off the bed as he fucks you with his tongue, “Bossy.” 

The vibrations of his voice have you keening against him as his arms come up and wrap around your thighs, holding you down as he laughs. 

“And squirmy. Next time I’ll have to tie you down. 

Adrian’s thumb brushes your clit and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan when your climax hits you hard and fast. 

Your eyes pull open to the feeling of Adrian pressing kisses to your stomach, a trail leading from your cunt up up up until he reaches your lips. Stealing a kiss in the form of a quick peck, he gives you a boyish grin, acting like he didn’t just get you to cum in like three minutes. 

Adrian lays on top of you, nuzzling into your neck as your breathing slows. 

“Can we keep going?” He asks into your skin 

“We can.” You hum, “If you promise to get off me right now.” 

Adrian sits up a saddened look on his face. 

“You were totally squishing me.” You laugh,” How many protein shakes does Vigilante drink everyday?” 

“Enough.” Adrian says 

You roll your eyes, real informative. 

“I bet he does, but I think I like this a bit more.” 

Adrian lets you push him backwards so his bed frame is to his back. 

“This is good too.” he says 

He nearly chokes when you straddle him again and grind into the bulge in his underwear. 

“Nevermind this is great actually, perfect really.” 

“Adrian?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Stop talking.” 

“Right, sorry.” 

“T-Touch me, touch me please.” He mumbles, hips jumping up towards your hand when one lands on his belly  

“How?” You ask coyly 

“Fuck, I dunno…” His eyes flutter shut 

Adrian gasps when you pull the waistband of his boxers down, freeing his cock as you suck a hickey into the skin on his neck. Shifting so you’re straddling his thigh more than just his lap. 

“Look at me.” You say, you’re not going to miss one second of this  

His head falls back when your run a finger over the slit of his cock, a fucking whimper leaving his lips. 

“Look at me, Adrian.” You command 

Adrian’s eyes meet yours, hazy with lust as he looks at you adoringly, “Sorry…” 

“It’s alright.” You hum, running a hand through his damp curls murmuring, “So pretty…” 

Your hand drops down and wraps around his cock, pumping him as he groans your name loudly as you twist your wrist. 

“ Fuck…” Adrian’s forehead glistens with sweat as you press a warm kiss to his neck, nipping at his skin, “M’ not gonna last.” 

“Go on.” You smile, “Cum for me, I don’t mind.” 

He whines your name and shakes his head. Big hands find your soft chest, thumbs flicking at your nipples as you try to keep your cool, wanting to maintain your dominance over him.  

“Ride my thigh.” He mumbles into your lips when you press them to his 

You blush but do as he says, rolling your hips in time with your hand that pumps him. 

“Fuck you’re pretty like this. Christ, always knew you’d look good on top of me.”  

Adrian plays dirty and flexes the muscle of his thigh and you moan loudly, your foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling as he grunts softly. 

“Can I cum in you?” 

You’re desperate to have him in you as you let him go. Adrian’s hands find your waist as he pulls you up to line himself up with you. 

Your moan is so loud you’re certain you’ve woken the whole neighborhood up as he enters you. His fingers find your clit again running circles over the nerves as he cums in you, whining your name as he does. You follow in suit, oversensitive from his mouth earlier. 

You bury your face in his neck, not wanting him to ever let you go again. Adrian presses a kiss to your ear mumbling something about that being the best orgasm ever into it. 

“Guess we should’ve saved the shower.” He says when you sit back to look at him 

He’s still seated inside you, going soft as his fingers dance along the side of your breast. 

“Did you really expect to have sex with me while I was covered in blood?” You laugh airly 

“I wouldn’t have minded.” He shrugs 

You take another shower. This time Adrian controls the temperature, telling you you’re going to boil yourself alive one day if you’re not careful. By the time the two of you are back in bed it’s nearly two in the morning. His legs are tangled with yours as he holds you tight to his chest. 

“You said that I had a hand in making you leave New York. What’d you mean by that?” Adrian asks into the darkness 

“I instagram stalked you.” You admit, “Saw your stupid post about the nut billboard and decided I had to move back home and make you mine.” 

Adrian laughs, running a hand through your hair. His voice is soft, a whisper into the darkness of his bedroom

“I’ve always been yours.” 

Six Months Later 

Adrian hums along to old One Direction song that played on the radio. He glanced at the clock on his dashboard, 4:59 PM 

And in 3…2…1…

The door to your apartment swung open and you stepped out. Waving to him as you walk towards his car. You’re wearing his favorite dress, the one with spiders on it and your hair is so shiny today. You remind him of a seal, sleak, shiny and cute as fuck. 

“You look like a seal.” He says as he pulls the door open for you

“Erm, thanks Adrian. You uh…remind me of a horse.” You reply 

“A horse? Why a horse?” He laughs as he reverses out of his parking space

“Cuz’ they’re majestic and cool to look at.” You shrug 

“You think I’m cool to look at?” He smiles 

“The coolest.” 

“Thank you my dear seal of a girlfriend.” 

Adrian thinks your laughter is even better than Zayn’s high notes as he drives the two of you to dinner. 

The past six months had been a hazy dream of perfection. You’d gotten your job back, HR flagged your ex’s dad and said he couldn’t terminate your position over a broken off engagement and now you worked remote from the comfort of your new apartment. 

Adrian spent four days a week at Fennel Fields and the other three in that apartment poking at your face while you were trying to do whatever it was that you did for this magical company you worked so hard for. He still didn’t understand how insurance worked and he probably never would. 

At night he’d patrol as Vigilante, sometimes you’d tag along but you were strictly there for cool photo ops, no more shooting people in the face, no matter how much he told you it was hot as fuck. 

“Oh I learned something new today,” You say 

“Really? What?” 

“Jumping spiders play with lazer pointers, just like cats!” You say 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Adrian exclaims 

No fucking way, you had to be joking right now.

“Nope! I even found a Youtube video of it for you, I’ll show it to you when we get to dinner.” You smile 

Adrian nods enthusiastically, pressing on the gas a little harder, he has to see this video as soon as humanly possible. 

Everyone wants something different. . Some want fame, others want to be prettier. Some want love, others want freedom. Adrian wants to see this video of the spider and it’s laser pointer. But, more than anything he wants to stay just like this for forever and then maybe even a bit longer than that. 

He pulls into a parking spot and watches as you queue up the video of the hour. It buffers and he looks over at you. 

He’s more alive than he’s ever felt before as you tell him to focus on the video. Instead of looking down at your phone he hums and pulls you in for a kiss. You pull back, as breathless as he is as he smiles at you widely. 

“We need air to breathe.” You laugh at him 

Adrian hums in agreement before pulling you in for another kiss, maybe you’re right, not that it matters though, he’s happy enough to never breathe again. You hands wrap around his face and weave through his hair as his heart pounds.. Yes, this right here is perfect for him, he’ll stay just like this forever, glued to your side, and happy to kiss you until he’s ready to drop dead. 

More Adrian here

A/n: The long awaited pt 3...I finally got off my ass and finished writing this story and damn is it long as hell. Oh well hope you all enjoy. Leave a comment if you did!!

How I felt writing this lowkey:

@mrsriddlenott @brianna-merlim @geritaal @angeliquekiss @nosebeers @bloom-me @joewaimo @teascorner @cosmickid-inmotion @laylakindafruity2109 @windyrainyday @starlingnvrzz @onlyrealjoy

@whoooisnanaa @marlboropremiumblack @wolfstar-17 @scouting-through-fics @sm0k3d0utgh0ul @anachilies @fiz-fizz-fis @dazecrea @orchids-orchidseverywhere @strawberymilktea @geekyginger @tiredfairy @velvet-milk @fawnw00d @kplatzman

@orionshead @indecisive-anony @faelvz @44trippyhippie @conchcronch @dionysuskid21 @daysiresdreams @sh0kolate @havkjhdecs @gato-dumbo @bandaids-n-porcelain @honeybuzzzzzz @gingermars830 @fayrah982 @finchker @odelians @rsl-wife @na-is-salty @ohwaudoritos @smolbeantizii @ximevamps @strawbrysapphic @rafs127 @anonymouswannabelol @adoresami @xismissing @clairebear33sworld @mrsxchase @lanadelreybbgg @n4rnii

@https-jerk @literallydo3eyed

@hiddlebatchedloki @whatislovevavy

His mother knew the truth of it. The way she looked at him had him convinced. Cole told her, surely. Still, Aemond knew of their… activities together. He could have Ser Criston Cole killed for warming his mother's bed, perhaps one day he would. 

Rhaenrya had made another move in the week since her biggest dragon’s death. Targaryen bastards had been rounded up and used as fodder in an attempt to claim riderless dragons. It was an interesting approach. Aemond didn’t think his half-sister was so bold. 

It’d paid off in her favor, his council told him that Vermithor, Silverwing, Seasmoke, and Sheepsteeler had all been claimed. 

“We have sent ravens for Daeron to fly to the capital at once.” His mother says

“He ought to remain where he is.” Aemond says, “He is more useful protecting our army rather than here.” 

Alicent’s head turns to Aemond, her eyes sharp, “Rhaenrya has more dragons now. Aegon cannot fly. Helaena is overcome with grief.” 

“Vhagar can protect the city,” Aemond says calmly, he’s never doubted his dragon riding skill, he has no reason to start now. 

“My prince, if Rhaenrya were to fly from Dragonstone and bring Daemon or Vermithor with her you would not be able-” 

“You doubt my abilities to fly my dragon, Lord Strong?” 

Larys Strong blinks back at Aemond. 

“You cannot even hold your own castle against my uncle, yet you presume to tell me how well I can fly the largest dragon alive.” 

The council stares at him, unsure of what to say next. 

“As long as we hold Kings Landing, Rhaenrya has nothing.” He says, “She wants the Iron Throne. I do not intend to give it to her willingly.” 

Dragonstone was a buzz. The capture of Prince Aegon and Prince Viserys had Rhaenrya worried and ready to act. 

“I will go,” Rhaenrya says

“You cannot,” Rhaella says, stepping in front of the door to her Queen's chambers

“They are my sons, Rhaella. I will retrieve them myself.” Rhaenrya aruges

Was it treason to keep the queen from leaving her chambers? Rhaella stood infront of the door, her arms outstretched like a fool. 

“All it takes is one arrow from a Triarchy’s sailor, and you could be killed, mother,” Jace says 

“You cannot fly against them.” Rhaella says, “Lord Corlys will retrieve Aegon and Viserys.”

“A dragon could-” 

“We all must remain here,” Jace argues over her, “We are safest here.” 

“Jace is right. We must trust Lord Corlys’ strength.” Rhaella says, nodding at her dark haired cousin 

They continue on like this for another ten minutes before eventually, Rhaella leaves Rhaenrya with Jace. She stands in the hall,listening to the two of them argue as she slides the door shut. 

She’s not expecting to see Baela waiting for her in the hall, a suspicious look on her face.

“Do you believe my grandfather will be able to rescue them?” She asks 

Rhaella looks at her, hesitant to say her answer, “Yes.” 

Baela shakes her head, stepping closer to Rhaella to take her hand in hers.

“You’re a terrible liar, sister.” 

Sona bellowed as Rhaella commanded her to fly faster. Wind whipped at her hair as her eyes scanned the ocean waters far below her. Moondancer was right behind her, Baela on her back as the clouds rushed by. 

Rhaella’s palms were sweaty; she’d never burned anyone alive, yet she was flying to meet a host of ships holding her little cousins hostage. They would not give up crowned princes without a fight. 

Her mind swims, trying to conjure up some form of courage to keep her breakfast in her belly and not on Sona’s saddle. Horrifingly, her mind seemed to be empty of things that might calm her. It’d only been two weeks since Rhaenys had died, Aemond and Vhagar had killed her with help from Sunfyre and Aegon. Rhaenys had been an experienced rider, her dragon bigger than Sona and yet she lay dead now.

 Right now, she could be flying to a watery grave. 

“Rhaella!” 

Baela’s loud shout has her looking down. A host of ships below them, they were too far up to see their sigils but Rhaella was sure the Seasnake was below her. 

Rhaella gripped Sona’s saddle, trying to quell her fears as her mind raced. Who did she know that would be fearless in a situation like this? She was flying to kill men on those ships, this was no leisure flight. 

Aemond. 

He is the only thought that fills her mind as she stares down at the gullet. She was sure he didn’t feel fear two weeks ago, brazenly telling her his plans, kissing her, killing Rhaenys the next day. Always so confident things would go his way.

Even now, she envied him and his fearlessness despite using it for so many wrong things. It was a trait she’d have to question him about before killing him. 

Sona dove towards the ships and Rhaella’s heart pounded. Her lips open, ready to give the command to incenerate the closest and smallest ship when another voice cut her off. 

“Dracarys!” 

Bright green flashed past her as Jacaerys and Vermax passed her. 

Seven hells, he’d followed them from Dragonstone. 

Rhaella watched him direct Vermax into a dive, speeding past ships as arrows and bolts from crossbows flew past them. 

Jace was headed to the front of this line of ships.

The largest ship was at the front, that was where the captain of these vessels was hiding and surely holding Aegon and Viserys. 

Rhaella pulled Sona up, she couldn’t get too close to the water, Sona’s big body would be swallowed by the water and she’d be shot off her back. 

Smoke from the burning ship choked the air and made her eyes burn as Rhaella circled in the air. Jace and Vermax were covered by the shadow of smoke as another ship went up in flames. 

The sounds of screaming men filled her ears as she accessed the situation. Baela was still above her, the two of them could burn the ships, leave the largest for last and let Corlys handle storming the ship its self. 

She steered Sona lower, into the smoke and the scent of burning flesh. Arrows flew below her as Rhaella tried to locate Jace in the haze. He needed to pull up, flying too low to water was dangerous. 

A flash of green against the scene caught her eye, Vermax! There they were!

The shuddering sound of cracking wood filled her ears, and the sight of the mast with Velaryon’s sigil on a huge sail blocked her vision for a moment. 

“Jace!” Rhaella yelled futilely into the carnage

He’d never hear her like this; she’d need to be closer. 

“Jikagon, Sona.” 

Go

She followed Jace’s path but stopped short. The Seasnake’s sail burned in the water and the sight of a green dragon’s wing had her pulling up and away from the fight. Vermax did not move as the waves washed over him. Beside him, Jacaerys’ dead body floated, tangled in the burning sail, multiple bolts from a crossbow stuck out from his body.

She heard gleeful shouts from the men below, and she knew he was gone. 

The Battle of the Gullet raged on through the day and into the night. Rhaella burned dozens of ships and had the scent of blackened flesh mixed with sea water was seared into her mind when it was all over. Covered in ash dust and a heavy heart, filled with despair, she landed on the beach at Dragonstone. 

Sona remained at her side as she looked up at the night sky and then down at her dirty hands. Her skin was covered in ash, and black clung to her so much that she was beginning to match her riding clothes. 

She reeked of death as she entered the castle, weary and hopeless. Her heart felt heavy as she handed Sona off to the keepers.

Rhaenrya stood over the painted table when she entered, her council surrounding her in dead silence 

“Spicetown burns, your Grace, and much of the Velaryon fleet is lost.” Someone reports but Rhaella’s attention is fixed on Rhaenrya.

“Jacaerys?” Rhaenrya asks, her eyes fixed on Rhaella. 

What does one say to a mother who has already lost so much? Rhaella’s lips cannot form the words to tell her Queen her first son has been killed. Her body might as well be made of lead as she shakes her head in shame. 

The Dragon Queen is silent, staring at Rhaella with a blank look on her face. Then, almost as quickly as Rhaella could blink, Rhaenrya was dismissing them all. 

Rhaella sat in her chambers, a bath had been drawn yet she made to effort to climb into it. She sat on the ground, running a hand through her tangled hair as her mind spun.

What had gone wrong today? Just hours ago Jace had been alive, standing beside her as they’d told Rhaenrya of how dangerous it’d be to fly to the gullet. 

He’d been in the air just before the mast fell, she was sure of it. Yet, mere seconds later he was dead, floating in the water. 

It felt unreal, perhaps it was. Maybe he was hiding around her door right now, ready to enter and say something that might upset her. Rhaella remembered how they’d first met. He’d been so small, arguing with Lucerys about who might enter her room first. Loud and spirted he’d been arguing with Aegon of all people. 

No, it was real, she’d seen it herself, watched as the sea swallowed him whole. She’d seen Jace’s body, the way his eyes had rolled back and how the salty waters had pushed his dark curls back. It was an image she seen with her two eyes and, it was also an image she’d never forget. 

Jacaerys Velaryon was dead. Maester Orwyle had whispered it to Aegon while tending to the many burns that littered his body. 

Aegon supposed he should be glad. His sister’s heir was dead, just like his was.

The feel of victory was short lived. This death would not undo the past two weeks. He was still immobile, stuck on milk of the poppy while Orwyle scrapped off blackened flesh and Aegon’s dignity with it. Aemond warmed his throne while Helaena’s madness had the maids whispering amongst themselves. 

His mother visited him each day. She never stayed long and usually remained silent during the visits. Aegon felt something in his stomach churn when he saw her, at some point he deduced that the feeling was the simple desire for affection. He wished she’d cradle him, perhaps stroke what was left of his hair and attempt to chase away the pain the way mothers often did, through love. 

Aemond visited him the day after Jacaerys’ death. Aegon hadn’t seen him since Rooks Rest. The air was uneasy and thick with tension as he looked at his little brother from his bed. 

“Jacaerys has been slain.” Aemond reports blandly as he sits in the chair their mother often used, “Killed by the Triarchy.” 

“I know. Orwyle told me.” Aegon wheezes 

Aemond lets out a hum, “I hear he expects you to make a full recovery.” 

If Aegon could, he would’ve smiled, “Does that displease you?” 

Some little brother he had, if Aemond thought he’d forgotten about letting Vhagar burn him he’d truly lost his mind. 

“When you have recovered, we will make a move against Rhaenrya’s dragons. I will convince Helaena to fly Dreamfyre.” Aemond says, “Daeron and Tessarion guard the Hightower host and will help us sack whatever army Daemon has mustered up from Harrenhal.” 

Now Aemond wanted to play the dutiful brother. How long would this farse last, Aegon wondered. Larys Strong had been adamant than Aemond would kill him soon yet, now Aemond was planning for the future with Aegon at his side. 

Although, he supposed this new strategy would be because of Rhaenrya and her army of bastard dragon riders. Vhagar could not kill them all.

“With what dragon do you plan to have me make this assault with?” Aegon asks, “Sunfyre is unrideable. Not to mention I cannot even stand to piss, let alone walk down that very hall.”

Aemond glared at Aegon, a look Aegon had been receiving since Aemond was old enough to walk. 

“What will she think of all this?” Aegon coughs 

“Helaena will ride.” Aemond snaps, “I will chain her to Dreamfyre if she refuses.” 

“Not her. Though I’d love to see that discussion, I mean Rhaella.” Aegon says, “Will you burn your childhood companion the way you did me?” 

Aegon was satisfied. It was rare that he got the last word when it came to Aemond. His smart little brother was silent; clearly, Aegon had hit a nerve. He’d known about Aemond's crush turned obsession since they were boys. 

“Forgot about her, did you? Surely she won’t let you fly unchallenged against her queen.” Aegon says, “You'll need to kill her to seat yourself on my throne.” 

Aemond’s face is holding a look Aegon has never seen on his brother's face. He could only coin it as fear. Aegon found it amusing Aemond didn't comment on the fact that he clearly knew his little brother's desire for the throne.

“Rhaella is not important to me anymore. She hasn’t been since she left the Keep weeks ago.” Aemond waves Aegon off, “A traitorous cunt.”  

Aegon scoffs; if it didn’t pain him to laugh, he’d be snorting by now. 

“You’re a shit liar, Aemond.” 

His brother rises, staring at Aegon. Perhaps this was it. Maybe Aemond would smother him with the pillow that was propping his leg up. Or perhaps he’d use the dagger that was fastened to his belt, the same one their father once carried with him everywhere. Make a mess of the royal apartments and scare the maids half to death. 

Aemond’s mouth twitches, he blinks twice before speaking again. The words that come out surprise Aegon, 

“She will die screaming.” 

Next Part

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

@starryhiraeth @franzelt

@holymusicalmothman @koobratzy @schelfinser

@mizuki80 @flusteredmoonn

@sunmigs @mizuki80 @dramioneforevertilltheend

@fix5idiots @canpillowscry

@aleemendoza2425-blog @optimistic-but-very-realistic

@vieenr0se @minttea07 @void21

@lothiriel9 @saraiadg

@simp-sundae-06 @truly-abysmal @spacexdrago

@rosey1981 @bitchyfestivalbouquet

@asahinasstuff @boywivlove

She fiddled with the sleeve of her dress as Rhaenys pushed for discussions rather than dragonfire. Rhaella's mind swam with uncertainty just last night, there’d been an attempt on the queen's life after Aegon’s Kingsguard, Ser Arryk slipped into the castle pretending to be his twin. In Rhaella’s mind, an action like that could not go unpunished. 

The sun slipped below the horizon as Rhaella took her supper with her half-sisters. 

“Is Rhaenrya truly going to let you out on patrol?” Rhaella asks Baela as she takes a forkful of the sweet potato on her plate. 

“Yes, and I’m sure she’d let you go if you asked. You have the third-largest dragon in our host.” Baela says 

Rhaella thinks of Sona. She hadn’t seen her dragon since she’d landed on the sandy beach of Dragonstone. Perhaps she’d have to take Baela up on her suggestion. 

“You have been quiet these past few days.” Rhaena says, “Are you angry with us?” 

“No,” Rhaella stammers, “I just…I feel out of place here, that's all.” 

“You miss him. Aemond, I mean.” Baela says, a frown on her face. 

“I do not. He is a traitor. He locked me in a room and then dragged me to Aegon’s false coronation.” Rhaella says, “He killed Luke!” 

In truth, she did miss Aemond. Though she did not miss the man she’d fought in the Dragonpit, she preferred the sweet, shy boy she grew up with. She missed their long talks and who he was before he let Vhagar eat Luke. Just a fortnight ago, they’d been swimming at night together and Rhaella had been wrapped around him. 

That night she donned her riding clothes for the first time since her arrival. The keepers brought her a restless Sona, and Rhaella whispered her apologies to the massive white beast.  

The night air is peaceful as she flies above the Blackwater. Sona’s belly nearly touches the water as Rhaella stares at the stars above. Perhaps she should have Sona turn about and fly off to the Free Cities. What was there for her here? Her only true friend was dead, claimed by old age. Her ancestral seat was a stranger to her, being ruled by her cousin in her stead. Nothing awaited her at Dragonstone, only war and death and more talk of war. 

Aemond was listless. He spent his days planning his brother’s war and his nights with Sylvi or the silver-haired girl he’d encountered the night Jaeharys had been killed. Tonight was not a night for whorehouses, though. Tomorrow, he’d fly to meet Cole with their plan of drawing one of Rhaenrya’s dragons to its death. 

He should be in bed, not staring into the fireplace, wondering what it’d be like if he’d dragged Rhaella back to the castle with him. 

He was angry with her. Angry for attacking him. Angry that she refused to back Aegon’s claim. Angry that she’d left him. 

Aemond’s eye flicked to the ashes of Rhaella’s beloved Maester Edric. He had half a mind to open his window and dump them out, let the winds carry him off. Instead, his hand reached for his eyepatch, slipping it on before disappearing from his chambers entirely. 

Sona bellowed loudly. Rhaella’s gaze left the stars as she focused on the shores of King's Landing that were still far off in the distance. Above the treeline, a great dark shadow was rising. She knew exactly whose dragon that was. She whispered for her own dragon to stay calm before beginning to turn about. Aemond might see her and take it as an attack. 

Rhaella had barely turned Sona around when she heard Vhagar let out a sound. 

Fuck, he saw her. 

Aemond saw the glitter of white on the Blackwater the moment Vhagar had lifted them above the treeline. Before he could truly think about it, he let out the command for Vhagar to follow Rhaella and Sona. 

Vhagar’s massive wings flapped as Sona flew ahead. Despite being smaller Rhaella’s dragon was quicker than Vhagar. Not as fast as Melys but fast enough that Aemond knew Vhagar would have trouble in a race. 

He follows her for what seems like an age. Up the coast and into what Aemond swore was the edge of the Vale. Eventually, Sona disappears into the trees, and Aemond follows quickly. 

His feet have barely touched the ground before he hears her voice. 

“Leave me alone.” 

Rhaella is hiding somewhere in these dark woods. 

Aemond doesn’t have the best vision in the night. He was already missing an eye and the one he had left wasn’t adept to dark walks through the forests that sat at the edge of the Vale. 

“We are near your home. Your ancestral one anyway.” Aemond responds, they were probably only an hour long flight from Runestone. 

“Fly back to Kings Landing and I won’t burn you alive.” Rhaella says 

Aemond feels a smirk tug at his lips, “You threatened me with that last time too. If you want people to start taking you seriously you need to follow through.” 

A glimmer of white catches his eye. There she is. Rhaella could use Sona’s speed to her advantage but there was no arguing that her whiter than snow dragon would never be able to hide in a forest. 

Aemond pushes his way through the brush to find Sona’s large mouth on the other side, Rhaella atop her dragon as she stared down at him. 

The moon was bright behind her as Aemond stared up at the shadow that was his cousin. 

“Come down from there.” He says quickly, “I cannot see you like this.” 

“I can see you just fine like this.” Rhaella’s voice says 

Aemond can tell she’s trying to act tough. Most likely she’s unarmed probably just out for a nighttime flight the way he had been. They’d always been so alike. Aemond’s sword sits heavy at his side. He never went anywhere without it. 

“You look awful.” Rhaella says 

“You flatter me.” Aemond hums 

A moment passes, maybe two before Aemond hears the sound of Rhaella sliding off her dragon. Sona growls as he approaches and Aemond hears a murmur of High Valyrian before the dragon backs off. 

She is as radiant as he remembers her. Perhaps even moreso. His hands twitch at his sides as he remembers the kiss from the last time he saw her. 

“Are you going to cut me down with that?” 

Aemond follows her gaze to where her eyes rest on his sword, “If you give me reason to.” 

Rhaella shakes her head, “This is ridiculous. I am leaving.” 

No. She cannot leave. Not yet! 

Aemond lunges forward, grabbing her forearm with far too much force. 

“Let me go, Aemond.” 

His name sounds nice on her lips. He’s forgotten why he was so upset with her earlier. He’s missed this, being close to her. The scent of lavender oil from her hair fills his nose as he stares down at her. 

“You look tired.” He comments, staring at the dark circles under her eyes. 

“Yes well, it has been a long day and you are making it even longer by holding me here.” She twists in his grasp

“You are the one who flew us all the way here.” Aemond reminds her 

“You chased me.” Rhaella glares 

Aemond lets her arm go and Rhaella doesn’t move from her spot. 

“You don’t feel any remorse, do you?” She questions 

Remorse? All he did was follow her. She and her dragon were perfectly safe right now. 

“For Luke. You stand there waiting for me to welcome you back to my side yet you make no move to make amends.” 

Aemond’s brow furrows, “Why should I apologize to you? You are not his mother. You grew up with me, not him and yet, you swear allegiance to my half-sister.” 

“Aegon is a usurper. Viserys set the succession; your mother has no power to change it.” Rhaella argues back 

Aemond shakes his head, “You are deluded. Daemon’s lies have taken root in your mind. I feel sorry for you.” 

Rhaella glares at him, if looks could kill, Aemond would be burnt to ashes by her dragon by now. 

Aemond expects her to leave, to turn around and curse him as she flies off. Instead, she collapses, sitting on the grass at his feet as she groans. She’s surprised him again. Always so unpredictable. 

Aemond sits beside her, removing his sword from his side and tossing it to the ground as he crosses his legs. 

A groan escapes Rhaella as she runs a hand down her face. 

“You are upset.” He states 

“Yes, I am.” She sighs 

“I am the cause?” 

“You are part of it.” She hums, “I just…I wish I could go back to our lives a few moons ago. Things were so simple then.” 

He stares at the way her dark black riding clothes contrast with his green ones. 

“They can be.” He finds himself saying, “You can come back to Kings Landing with me. I can tell my mother and Aegon that you don’t wish to fight, we can go back to normal there.” 

For a second he thinks his plan has been accepted, that Rhaella is ready to follow him back to the Red Keep and pore over a book with him in his chambers. 

“You are a fool.” 

Aemond feels his face sour as Rhaella stares at him. She was the fool. He’d just extended his hand to her, a way out of her current situation, a path back to him.

“I am the fool? You pledge yourself to Rhaenrya yet don’t want to fight for her cause.” Aemond snaps, “So, I ask, who is the true fool among us?” 

“I never said I would not fight.” Rhaella’s eyes narrow, an unreadable look on her face.

“Then why,” He leans closer to her, their noses just inches apart,  “Am I still breathing?” 

Rhaella scoffs, rolling her eyes, “You wish to have an honorless death? Eaten by a dragon in the woods in the middle of the night?” 

“Honor is for foolish knights,” Aemond hums, “I didn’t take you for one. Tell me, when did they start knighting women?” 

To his disappointment, Rhaella does not give Sona word to kill him, instead, she inches away from him, a sad sigh escaping her lips. Her brow furs as she stares at him eyes full of remorse or perhaps regret? Aemond can’t place the emotion she’s staring at him with. All he knows is that he wishes to relieve it. 

Aemond’s fingers twitch. He wants to reach out, bring her into him, tell her things will be alright, that she’s safe with him. Instead, he finds himself opening his mouth, 

“Cole marches on Rooks Rest. He’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.” 

“And you expect me to do what with this information? Take it to Rhaenrya so that you might ambush one of us when we leave Dragonstone? Do you honestly think I’ll believe you? For all I know, Cole is asleep in the Red Keep right now.” She says 

“Tell her, don’t tell her.” Aemond says, “I don’t control you.” 

Rhaella stands up, her back facing Aemond as he remains on the ground. 

“No, you don’t,” She says, “But you want to.” 

Baela confirmed Aemond’s statement the next day. Out on patrol, she’d spotted Cole and given chase. 

Rhaella was sour that she’d missed it, Criston Cole was lucky it had been Moondancer hunting him and not Sona. Now, she stood in the hall at Dragonstone listening to Rhaenrya’s council debate what was to be done about the Hightower host marching for Rooks Rest. 

“Vhagar will surely be there. Aemond would not tell Rhaella of the Hightower’s plans without one of his own.” Jace says, “We cannot just fly there without a real plan.” 

“We also cannot allow Lord Staunton to remain unprotected,” Rhaenrya says to her son

Rhaella stares at the painted table, she found herself wishing Daemon were here. She’d heard he and Rhaenrya had a disagreement over Jaehearys’ death and that Rhaenrya’s ravens to Harrenhal were going unanswered by her father. 

She still didn’t like him much but she was well aware of the edge he and Caraxes brought to their cause. 

“You must send me, Your Grace.” 

Rhaella looked up to see Rhaenys speaking. She hadn’t truly spoken to Rhaenys in years, not since Rhaella found out she’d been keeping Lady Rhea’s true death a secret. 

“Meleys is your biggest dragon. We can burn Cole’s army and fight Vhagar if she and Aemond decide to show.” 

The matter was decided, Rhaella watched as Rhaenys disappeared from the room to change from the black dress she wore. 

Rhaella found herself tongue tied. She was weary, still in her riding clothes from last night, she hadn’t slept since leaving Aemond in the woods. 

He’d let her go last night despite the clear chance he had to cut her down or her chase her with Vhagar. 

Jace found her side with ease, perhaps she was becoming predictable with her thoughts. 

“Do not tell me you are going to fly as well.” Jace says as he stands beside you, watching the council disperse. 

Rhaella looks at him guitily, “How can I not? I delivered the news from Aemond yet I make no move to fight. It would be cowardly to not.” 

“Rhaenys is more experienced and Meleys has combat experience. Not to mention Sona is smaller than Meleys.” Jace points out, throwing the words Rhaenrya had just said to him in Rhaella’s face.

Rhaella sighs, she knows he is right. She loved Sona, loved riding her but flights for leisure did not mean she’d do well in battle. 

“Last night, Aemond…all he did was follow you to the woods to tell you all this?” Jace asks 

“He tried to convince me to go back to Kings Landing with him.” Rhaella says 

Jace nods, his eyes scanning her face, “Nothing else?” 

“No, nothing else.” 

Aemond waited in the trees for Cole’s signal. Vhagar was asleep beneath him, a bed of flattened trees beneath her giant body. His eye scanned the sky and his ears listened for the possible sound of a dragon. 

He was sure he looked focused yet he found himself thinking of last night. He hadn’t slept after he and Rhaella’s moonlit meeting. 

“But you want to.”

Control? Was that how she saw it? Aemond didn’t think devotion was control. He wanted her safe. Yet, she insisted on serving Rhaenrya and putting herself in danger. 

If he closed his eye he could still picture her, Rhaella and her sad eyes, the way they’d widened when he’d stood up and closed the distance between them. 

Her lips were soft and tasted of something sweet as Aemond devoured her. She’d gasped into him before messily returning the kiss. He held her so tight against his chest, his clothes might’ve swallowed her whole. 

His mind was fuzzy, and his chest felt warm as her hands slid to rest and curl against his chest. Her lips had been red when they’d separated. A blush dusting across her soft features, Aemond was sure he had one to match. 

“I must leave.”

Rhaella was intoxicating, a drug sent from the gods to entrap him and force him to bend to her will.

 Even now, moments from battle, he was thinking of her. Would she fly before him? Perhaps she’d burn him alive today, maybe he’d even let her. 

The sound of flapping wings and a dragon’s screech filled his ears. His head turned upwards, he hadn’t expected the Blacks to approach from this angle. 

Shimmering gold met his eye, this was not one of Rhaenrya’s dragons. 

Instead of Rhaella and Sona, Aemond watched his older brother fly above him. His mind raced, the idea of Aegon flying to meet whatever dragon Rhaenrya had sent. He’d be killed, surely. Aegon had never been the best rider; his dragon was young, a beautiful beast, but not one that could fight if Daemon decided to fly back from Harrenhal. 

Perhaps he should just remain here, let the gods decide his brother's fate. 

Horns sounded, this was the signal. Yet, Aemond hesitated. 

A memory of another moonlit night crossed his mind. The night his father had died, and he’d gone swimming with Rhaella. His emotions had run high that night, as they often did when Rhaella was close to him. One thing he did know, though, was recalling the feeling of wishing for that moment to last forever. 

Another loud screech fills his ears. Aegon was fighting. 

Aemond’s mouth opens, 

“Soves, Vhagar”

Next Part

Very excited for the next few chapters. They've been so fun to write and develop Aemond and Rhaella in them. Harrenhal arc here we come :)

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

@starryhiraeth @franzelt

@holymusicalmothman @koobratzy @schelfinser

@mizuki80 @flusteredmoonn

@sunmigs @mizuki80 @dramioneforevertilltheend

@fix5idiots @canpillowscry

@aleemendoza2425-blog @optimistic-but-very-realistic

@vieenr0se @minttea07 @void21

@lothiriel9 @saraiadg

@simp-sundae-06 @truly-abysmal @spacexdrago

@rosey1981 @bitchyfestivalbouquet

@asahinasstuff @boywivlove

“You’re allowed to leave this room.” 

Daemon stood in the doorway, his face strangely devoid of the smirk she often saw him wear. 

“And go where?” She hums 

He enters without permission, making himself at home as he sits at the foot of her new bed, just an arms length away from her at the head. 

“You said you were stopped by Aemond before getting on Sona.” Daemon says 

“He was waiting for me in the Pit.” She recounts 

“And he just…let you go?” Daemon muses 

Rhaella cursed him. How could he see so clearly? Was it parental intuition? Perhaps a secret sixth sense he kept hidden all these years. 

“We argued about my departure. I threatened to burn us both alive if he did not let me pass.” She says, carefully leaving the kiss out of the narrative. 

“And you did not think to burn him alive on the way out of the Pit? Surely he was defenseless once you were on dragonback.” 

Rhaella didn’t, well couldn’t, admit to her father that she’d spent nearly five full minutes after Aemond kissed her on her arse in the dirt. By the time she’d mounted Sona, he’d vanished entirely. 

Daemon pats her knee, “There’s no use in focusing on what could’ve been. After tonight, it won’t matter what you didn’t do to him.” 

Rhaella nods before her gaze snaps up, digesting Daemon’s words, “What do you mean?” 

“A son for a son.” He says plainly, “I have given word that Aemond will be killed tonight. To pay his debt for Lucerys.” 

Rhaella wonders if he can see the way her heart drops to her feet, “And the Queen has consented to this?” 

Daemon gives her a look, one she can’t decipher if it means yes or no. Then, as if he’s just dropped in to tell her of the weather, he stands to leave again, “I fly for Harrenhal tomorrow afternoon, I’ll see you before then.” 

The door swings shut and Rhaella feels her heart skip a beat. Daemon has coordinated with some unknown force that is being sent to kill Aemond. A part of her wants to warn him, tell him to flee Kings Landing and fly far away on Vhagar so that Daemon’s assassins might never find him. Another part of her wants him to remain in the castle. A sick, twisted side of her wants to see him punished for Lucerys. 

Conflicted, she stands ready to follow Daemon and press the matter further, or perhaps ask her queen if this was truly the correct path. What she isn’t expecting is her chamber door to be locked from the outside. Seething, she curses Daemon and bangs her hands raw on the door. 

From the other side, she hears a faint click of shoes, he’d just walked away. 

Aemond stared at the scroll in his fingers. Edric had died just this morning, or well, had been dead this morning when Helaena found him. He’d been burned and his ashes were currently sitting on Aemond’s dresser in an urn. His mother had originally told the Silent Sisters to dispose of them until he had stepped in. He’d never been fond of Maester Edric, yet he also had no quarrel with him either. 

It was when the ashes were delivered in the late afternoon that Aemond realized there was no way Rhaella would know of his death unless someone from the Red Keep told her of it. This led him to where he was now, staring at a small piece of paper that announced the death of his friend’s father figure. 

He runs a hand over his face, brushing his finger along his lip. If he focuses, he can still taste Rhaella there. He’s glad he kissed her. Now, if he died tomorrow, he’d at least die with one less regret about his existence. In another world, the kiss might’ve convinced her to stay. If Aemond had his way he’d be lounging in bed with Rhaella now, fiddling with her long hair as she laughed and ate the grapes that sat on his nightstand. In this perfect vision, Edric was alive and well, and Aemond wasn’t writing of his demise to a woman who just tried stabbing him in the face with a dagger from the father she claimed to hate. 

He rolls his shoulders; he’s tense. Far too tense for the current situation. He needs to relax. His eye flicks to the window. The sun is a small sliver on the horizon. Quickly, he rises and summons a serving girl to carry his message to Maester Orwyle so it might reach Rhaella. 

The Street of Silk welcomes him as he makes his way through it, silver hair hidden beneath a cloak. He doesn’t need every peasant knowing a Targaryen is passing them. 

The Madame is busy when he arrives. Aemond isn’t one to wait. Patience has never been his strong suit. Yet, he makes no quip to the attendant to tell her to hurry up with whatever man she’s with. 

Instead, he lounges lazily on a comfortable chair, taking in the environment around him. Half dressed and fully naked girls giggle loudly, leading men to veiled off chambers. Incense burns and somewhere a man pukes leading to a loud scream of disgust from a whore. 

Aemond finds his lips quirking into an amused smile when she runs past him, tits covered in vomit while the man has passed out on the ground. 

He reaches for a serving boy who passes with a tray of wine, selecting a cup before shooing the boy away. He’s taken more than one sip before a delicate hand weaves its way down his torso. 

“My Prince.” 

A whore he’s never seen greets him, a sly smile on her painted lips. 

Normally, he tells other whores to leave, he’s only felt interest in Sylvi. Yet, this one in particular has him pausing. Its not the shape of her arse or her smile that has him intrigued but the hair that sprouts from her head. 

Long sliver locks tumble down her body, contrasting the soft blue silk robe she covers herself with. They curl and messily frame her features. 

“Do I please you, Prince Aemond?” She asks sweetly 

“Your hair. Is it a wig?” He asks sipping his wine 

“Tis’ my own.” She smiles 

Apart of Aemond wonders if this girl is a bastard, Perhaps Daemon got too zealous twenty odd years ago before his half sister married him. 

“Shall we go somewhere private?” She hums 

Aemond allows her to lead him to a room. He lets her strip and watches dully as she dances to the music that flows through the brothel. 

“Do I bore you?” She asks, “I can do something else if you prefer. Most men like to watch before they have me.”

Aemond’s eye flicks down her torso. No, she’s not quite right. Hips too broad and nose slightly crooked. He focuses on her chest, watching her hands ghost over her breasts when she sees him looking. They’re not half bad yet, his body knows it's not what he wants standing in front of him. 

“Keep dancing.” He orders 

The Red Keep is quiet when he slips back in. A rat scuttles by as he reaches his chambers. Aegon had hired rat catchers after Helaena mumbled something about being afraid of them, yet they still crawled all over. Clearly, they weren’t doing their job well. 

He pushes the door to his chambers open and is shocked to find his mother sitting in his room. 

“Mother.” He greets 

His mother picks at her fingernails, a habit of hers that Aemond noticed when he was a little boy. Her hair is messy and unstyled. What strikes him, though, is how she’s still awake. Ordinarily, she is fast asleep by now.

“Where were you?” 

Her voice is raw and scratchy. She’s yet to make eye contact with Aemond and instead is still staring at the map of Westeros before her. 

“Does it matter?” Aemond asks, he’s not interested in telling her about his time at the brothel.

“Jaehaerys is dead.” 

“What?” 

“A rat catcher cut his head off.” Alicent says 

Aemond opens his mouth, ready to ask about Aegon when a loud crash anwsers his question instead. Distanly he can hear his brother’s enraged yelling.

“Now, answer me.” Alicent is looking at him now, “Where were you?” 

Rhaella stares at the raven scroll. Aemond’s writing is scrawled across it, she’d know his handwriting anywhere. Edric was dead and Aemond kept his ashes for her. 

She wept for Edric. Had he died because he left him? Did Alicent poison him as punishment for leaving the castle? Perhaps it was old age catching up? Aemond did not list a cause of death, just that he was dead and had been cremated. 

Baela and Rhaena tried to console their half sister. They took their supper with her and offered her their desserts. The two girls tried to lighten the mood by speaking of Baela’s engagement to Jace. 

 They watched carefully as Rhaella remained curled up in bed, shimmering dress still on. Baela suggested a short flight on Sona, saying flying might help clear the mind. Rhaella brushed her off telling her to go to bed. 

The castle was asleep when Rhaella finally left her chambers. Dressed in a simple nightdress and robe, she’s not sure what she’s looking for. For so many years she spent restless nights in the library, Aemond pressed to her side as they read tales about old Valyria.

Her feet carry her to Dragonstone’s small library. She’s expecting to be entirely alone in the small room yet she opens the door to find Jace paging through a book. 

“I did not know you even knew how to read.” Rhaella greets her cousin 

“I’m not seven anymore.” Jace laughs

“No, you're not.” Rhaella sighs, settling into the chair across from him, “A page turner?” 

“In truth, I could not tell you what I’ve been reading. I’ve been staring at the same sentence for nearly half an hour now.” Jace sighs loudly 

Rhaella nods, wrapping the soft blue robe around her shivering. The damp walls of Dragonstone seemed darker than they used to be. Perhaps it was the night air or the nagging feeling of how she missed the Red Keep. 

“Now that my mother has put Luke to rest, she and Daemon will begin their plans to kill Aegon,” Jace says into the stillness of the room 

“Do you truly think she will ever really be able to put Luke to rest?” Rhaella asks slowly, “I think she is thinking of him right now.” 

“Depressive thoughts will not win her the throne.” Jace counters, “She’ll have to take action. Use her dragons to her advantage.” 

Rhaella snorts, “You sound just like him.” 

Jace’s sharp features flicker in the soft candle light as his eyes meet hers. 

“Daemon, I mean. You sound exactly like him.” Rhaella says 

“You know I am right, we cannot sit about while The Greens simply do as they please.” Jace reminds her 

“Oh I’m well aware.” Rhaella hums, her mind drifting to Aemond. 

Jace stares at his cousin. It was as if she’d aged since just a few days ago, when he saw her at dinner, when his Grandsire was still living. He’d heard of how she’d been locked away by Alicent Hightower and been forced to attend Aegon’s false coronation. 

He tries to decipher what she might be thinking of now, wrapped up in that blue silk robe and white nightdress. Instead, his mind drifts to the way her silver hair is freed from its usual styles. It falls it soft waves and shrouds her in an angelic glow

 A pang of jealousy brews in his stomach. If he’d taken his mother’s coloring rather than Ser Harwin's, perhaps his life would be easier. Perhaps Luke would be alive if he’d had silver curls rather than brown. The gods had blessed Rhaella in the womb, let her take after Daemon rather than Rhea Royce. Jace felt as if his looks had been cursed; he’d had the same odds as Rhaella to inherit Targaryen looks, yet here he sat, with dark curls and even darker eyes. 

“Is there something on my face?” Rhaella asks, snapping Jace from his thoughts about hair color and lines of succession 

“No.” He shakes his head, “I haven’t seen you with your hair down. It’s nice like that.” 

Rhaella rolls her eyes, “Aren’t you already betrothed?”

Rhaella watches, amused, as Jace’s face goes red at her comment. 

“I did not mean it like that.” He groans 

“I jest.” She waves him off, “You and Baela make a fine couple.” 

Jace stares at her, “In truth I’m not sure if she likes me much. At least not in the way of marriage.” 

“Hours ago she was just talking about how you’ll make a good husband one day.” Rhaella says trying to calm his fears.  

Jace slowly nods, “And what do you think?” 

Rhaella gives him a small laugh, “I think you’ll be a great king one day. As for a husband, there are many awful men in the Seven Kingdoms to be married to. Baela is lucky you are kind.” 

“I suppose you’re right. If you hadn’t left Kings Landing when you did,  you might’ve been forced to marry Aemond.” 

Rhaella gives him a thin, tight-lipped smile, “And that would’ve been a nightmare.” 

This was barely edited, sorry for typos.

Thinking about writing for Ser Duncan the Tall. Would just be a one shot though, not a series. I dunno maybe I will, maybe not.

Next Part

I finally got around to uploading this story to my A03 account.

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

@starryhiraeth @franzelt

@holymusicalmothman @koobratzy @schelfinser

@mizuki80 @flusteredmoonn

@sunmigs @mizuki80 @dramioneforevertilltheend

@fix5idiots @canpillowscry

@aleemendoza2425-blog @optimistic-but-very-realistic

@vieenr0se @minttea07 @void21

@lothiriel9 @saraiadg

@simp-sundae-06 @truly-abysmal @spacexdrago

@rosey1981 @bitchyfestivalbouquet

@asahinasstuff @boywivlove

He’s still sleeping when she pushes the door open. Rain beats against the windows as she pads over to Maester Edric’s side. 

“Rhaella?” He senses her before she can even whisper his name, “What's wrong?” 

“Lucerys is dead.” There's no reason to hold her tongue now, “Aemond killed him. He let Vhagar eat him.” 

Maester Edric is oddly silent for once in Rhaella’s whole life. Her fingers drum nervously on her dark riding clothes. 

“You are leaving then.” He whispers 

He always knew what she was planning, even before she said it. 

“I have to.” She admits “I'll die here if I don't.” 

“Where will you go?” Edric asks 

“I think you already know.” 

“Will Queen Rhaenrya will have you?” He questions 

“I hope so. First I will have to get to Sona, I cannot leave her here.” She says 

Maester Edric coughs twice and reaches for Rhaella, his warm hands grasp hers. 

“I guess this is goodbye then.” 

“Perhaps we could get to the pit together. You've always wanted to fly on dragon back have you not?” Rhaella foolishly asks, “I promise Sona will not eat you.”

It's an impossible dream. Edric could no longer walk, just the strain of moving him down the hall would take strength Rhaella didn't possess. 

“I'm not sure. Perhaps one day I might.” He smiles at her, “What I do know is that you must leave.” 

“I will find a way to get you out of this castle and when I do, we'll fly back to Runestone and never leave again. You can bore me to death by teaching me every noble house sigil from here to the Wall.” Rhaella says, sniffling as her eyes well up with tears 

“My sweet girl…” Edric’s voice drips with emotion as he squeezes Rhaella's hands as tight as he can, “Be careful. Be smart.” 

Rhaella leans down and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek, his weathered skin is coarse under her lips, “I will, I promise.” 

It is only when she slips back out into the hall and the door shuts behind her that she allows her tears to flow freely. 

She is soaked to the bone by the time she reaches the pit. She hands the reins of the horse off to the dragon keepers. They'll tell Alicent and the Hand you're here, perhaps they'd already sent a man running towards the castle. It'd be too late by then. 

Sona is kept towards the back of the pit, the larger cages were there. Rhaella's heart pounds so loud she swears it sounds like a drum as she runs to her dragon. 

Sona gurgles as Rhaella draws close to her. 

“I know, you were asleep. But we have to go. I am glad you're still saddled from our last flight.” You hum, ready to drag yourself up to her back. If the God's were looking down on you, you hoped Sona would get over her attitude about not flying in the rain. 

“Where are you going?” 

Aemond’s tone is sharp. It cuts through the air like a knife as Rhaella turns to face her childhood friend. 

“Dragonstone. I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.” Rhaella snaps 

“You'd leave that frail Maester of yours behind for that whore of a queen? Aegon will-” 

“Fuck Aegon. Fuck your grandfather for putting the Conquers crown on his head.” Rhaella lets go of Sona to cross the pen where Aemond stands at the entrance “The succession was set by Viserys. The Hightowers do not have the right to change it.” 

Aemond's eye scans her face, perhaps he is looking for her to regret saying all that. She doesn't. 

“Stay. Please.” Aemond says, his gaze softens as he closes the distance, his chest brushes Rhaella's as she stares up at him. 

“Get away from me.” Rhaella says, disgusted he'd even try to come near her after what he'd done to Luke

Aemond's strong hands grab her by the arms, “Do not leave me, please Rhaella.” 

“You lost me the moment you told me what you did to Luke” Rhaella strains against his bruising grip 

“It was an accident. Vhagar she…I lost control.” He admits 

“Yes, you did. And where did that get you? You're a kinslayer, Aemond.” Rhaella stares up at him, determined to see his reaction to her words, “I won't remain here to let you do the same to me”

Aemond's grip loosens and Rhaella steps back, reaching for Sona, “This is goodbye, Aemond. I thank you for being my friend and companion over the years.” 

She is halfway onto Sona when she hears it, the sound of steel being drawn. She turns around, face to face with Aemond, his sword glinting in the pale light of the torches that bounce off the walls. 

“You would kill me? Is that how much your King means to you?” Rhaella asks, she knows Aemond will not harm her. 

“Under the orders of King Aegon second of his name, you are to return to the Red Keep with me at once.” Aemond's deep voice wavers as he looks at her 

“You are loyal to a usurper. A drunk who will plunge us into war for your mother and grandfather's ego.” Rhaella says strongly, “He will send you to your death one day. You are a one eyed fool.”

Perhaps the eye comment was what set him off. Or maybe he was just not used to her blatantly resisting him. Either way, Rhaella is pulled from Sona and lands on her arse in the dirt. Her dragon growls, her sight set on Aemond who stands above Rhaella, sword gleaming. 

“Tell her to back down.” Aemond orders 

“Sona, Lykirī.” Rhaella says she cannot escape if her dragon decides to cook her alive in the Pit of all places. 

“Rise. It is nearly morning. You will return with me and we will not speak of this to my mother or grandfather. We will forget it happened and go back to how things were.” Aemond commands, his sword slips back into its scabbard and Rhaella takes that as her sign to start moving. 

Aemond was far superior to her in combat with a blade. He was bigger than her too, heavier, and definitely stronger. What he wasn't better at was keeping his guard up. Years of being around her meant he was relaxed when Rhaella was near. Rhaella was the same, or was, she had once been calmed by his presence. 

Aemond falls to the ground with a grunt as Rhaella tackles him. Surely they were a blur of limbs and silver hair as she straddles him. Distantly she can hear the dragon keepers shouting in high valyrian to call for guards. Sona is growling and gurgling most likely unsure of how to find a way to protect her as she wrestles Aemond on the dusty ground. She reaches for Aemond's face, ripping at his eye patch and ignoring the way he yells in pain when her fingernails rake across the sensitive scar flesh around his missing eye. 

“If an opponent has a weakness, you should use it. It's their fault for not fighting at their best.” 

Daemon's words echo in your mind as Aemond groans and curses beneath her.

Her fingers scramble to your belt loops, pulling the dagger from Daemon free. The sapphires on the hilt glitter, matching Aemond's eye. 

Rhaella's arms raise, the dagger spelling certain danger for Aemond. 

“No, wait!” He yells, a hand raises to protect his face. 

She could do it, end the life of the rider of the biggest dragon in the world. He'd die here in the Dragon Pit, surrounded by the beasts he’d dreamed of as a boy. Aemond's death would level the playing field, giving Rhaenrya an edge against Aegon. 

Aemond stares up at her, his chest heaving. Rhaella had him pinned, her weight on his stomach. Thin lines of blood trickle down his face. A cold sweat streams down Rhaella's face. How can he expect her to kill him when he's staring at her like that?

“Do it.” He dares her, “You have won. Take your prize.” 

Her hands shake, as she hesitates. Why is she stopping? Why is it that she all of a sudden can only see the little boy who read in the library with her for years? The dragonless one who'd cry over jokes from his big brother and nephews. The one who taught her to swim and snuck her sweets after dinner was through. 

“Kill me.” Aemond challenges venom laced in his tone, “Serve your Queen.” 

“Be careful. Be smart.”

“I am going to Dragonstone.” Rhaella declares, “You will let me pass and you will not follow me on Vhagar.” 

Aemond looks up at Rhaella, sapphire eye glinting as he shifts, slowly sitting up so they're eye level.

“Promise me, Aemond.” Rhaella pleads, “Or I will give the word to Sona and let her burn us both.” 

Aemond's lips quirk, an unreadable look on his face as Rhaella lets the dagger drop to her side. 

Rhaella nearly moves to stab him again when his lips slam into hers. Long silver hair, perhaps it was hers, maybe even his, block her vision. As he roughly kisses her. Her heart thuds against her chest and her hands twitch, unsure of what to do. 

Then, quick as it happened, he's pulling away, pushing her off him and onto the floor. His voice is raw with emotion she can't identify.

“I promise.” 

He vanishes as fast as he'd appeared, scooping up his ruined eye patch from the floor. His silver hair is messy as he disappears around the corner, leaving Rhaella alone in the dirt.

Dragonstone was on high alert. Jace had spent the better part of the days pacing the halls. His mother wasn't doing well. Losing a babe and then Luke, she’d disappeared early yesterday morning on Syrax. Daemon spent his days with her council, planning how to kill every Hightower he got his hands on. Baela and Rhaena stood with their grandmother, following her orders. 

Jace tried to busy himself. He attempted to listen to Daemon's planning, he struck an aimless conversation with Baela about what might be done for Luke, he doubted his mother would find a body. He even spent time with Joffery and little Aegon and Viserys, trying to find the right words to explain why Luke would never come home. 

“Aemond will be on patrol surely.” Daemon says loudly “Caraxes and Meleys can kill him and Vhagar. I will storm the Red Keep myself with the gold cloaks loyal to me. Surely they are keeping Rhaella in her rooms, the Tyrells would be flaunting her about if they had a Targaryen in their family by now. “ 

“Nothing is to be done without the Queen's approval.” Jace finds himself saying. 

They cannot fly to King's Landing without approval from his mother. 

“I am winning her war for her, boy.” Daemon approaches Jace slowly “Hope for peace died with your brother in Vhagar’s belly.” 

“My King!” A guard bursts into the room, “A dragon is approaching from across the Blackwater!” 

Daemon drags Jace to where the dragons rest below Dragonstone, he watches as Caraxes approaches his rider. 

“You better hope Vhagar has not fallen upon us while you tried to talk me into peace.” 

Jace watches Daemon mount Caraxes before quickly disappearing back into the castle. Every inch of him wants to call for Vermax but in his heart he knows his small dragon will be nothing but in the way against Vhagar. Daemon and Rhaenys and their dragons were a far better match against Aemond. 

Daemon squints into the early morning sun as he tries to get a glimpse of what flies towards him. He didn't know his nephew well but a suicide flight to Dragonstone seemed too brash. Rhaenys was beside him, staring at the figure that slowly flew across the water. 

“That's not Vhagar.” He hears her call 

Surely Rhaenrya has not returned already. A loud shout of his name has his eyes widening. A beautiful white beast flies towards him, wings flapping as the sun gleams off its snow colored scales. 

“Daemon.” He hears his oldest greeting him, “Where is the Queen?” 

Across the Blackwater, Queen Helaena followed her son into a bed chamber. The little boy was mischievous and enjoyed hiding from his mother and Septas when they asked him to sit down so that he might learn to read.

“Jaehaerys. Come. We will play elsewhere. The man here must rest.” 

Helaena finds her boy peering over the bedside of an old man. His skin is pale and his chest is far too still. 

“Mummy.” Jaehaerys wanders over to her, clinging to her skirts. 

Helaena hums, staring down at the dead man in the bed before her. She knows him, she'd never spoken to him much but he was kind and a smart Maester. 

“Come, we will have to tell Lady Rhaella of her companion’s death.” Helaena says, pulling her boy along to the room next door. 

She pushes it open after knocking twice, Rhaella was never one to sleep in. Instead, the new queen is met with an empty bed and empty room. Nothing but books and silence meet her. 

Next Part-

First update since August of 2024. Knight of a Seven kingdoms has sparked my love once more. I love you Ser Duncan the Tall.

Comment below to join the taglist. (The taglist is not by chapter, once added, you will remain there unless you ask to be removed.)

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

@starryhiraeth @franzelt

@holymusicalmothman @koobratzy @schelfinser

@mizuki80 @flusteredmoonn

@sunmigs @mizuki80 @dramioneforevertilltheend

@fix5idiots @canpillowscry

@aleemendoza2425-blog @optimistic-but-very-realistic

@vieenr0se @minttea07 @void21

@lothiriel9 @saraiadg

@simp-sundae-06 @truly-abysmal @spacexdrago

@rosey1981 @bitchyfestivalbouquet

@asahinasstuff @boywivlove