Livii

Prologue

You will be well cared for.

Her father and her have very different definitions of ‘care’. She stalled and stalled and when she could not avoid it anymore, she met her betrothed. The man had a certain reputation spread through whispers and gossip. They were alone together and he barely talked. She didn’t let it unnerve her, all for the better, she thought.

You’ve spent your days in a vicious cycle of eat, work until your fingers fall of and sleep when the wound was still fresh. It’s quite similar still, though with the added “bonus” of sleeping around—to the persistence of one Baela Targaryen—adding excitement to your otherwise insipid life.

Though throughout your escapades, a certain hole in your chest is longing to be filled and you hated to admit that only one person could.

You were taken out of your reverie when your phone rang. Baela’s face lighting u p the screen. “Hello?” You answered, rubbing a hand down the side of your face, your gaze trailing to the unopened invitation resting on your desk, its contents haunting your mind as to what you'd encounter if you accepted.

“Well? Are you going?” Her voice echoing across the room, only getting a hum in response. Squeezing your exhausted eyes shut. Despite Baela being miles away you still feel the air in the room stiffen as you fiddle with your necklace, lighter from the weight of the ring that once hung from it.

“You know,” You internally groaned at the start of her sentence, knowing exactly what she was about to say. “You don’t have to talk to him if you don't want to.”

“You know damn well he wants to talk to me.” You hear a scoff at the other end of the line, far away from the phone, indicating Rhaena was listening to the conversation. “He’s done a pretty swell job at ignoring you before so he shouldn't be surprised."

Even after 6 years of your separation, Baela and Rhaena still held bitterness toward their cousin for how he ended your relationship. While you carried the same bitterness in your chest for years, you slowly began to convince yourself to let it go, but the hole in your chest grows each time you remember the promise he broke.

His parting words still piercing your chest.

“C’mon, Rhaena don’t say that…” You sighed, your mind too tired to argue again.

“No! Don’t you dare defend him,” Hearing her footsteps get closer, you moved to leave your office, making a path toward the tequila bottle on your kitchen counter, taking a swig and immediately regretting doing so when the liquid burned your throat. Funny how despite being apart for years, the way you both de-stressed still stuck to you. Spending hours on the kitchen floor, drinking any beverage your hands could reach. “If he wasn’t such a fucking pussy he—”

“Stop.”

The line goes silent.

“I appreciate you guys defending me, I-I do. But It’s been years,” You sighed, the combination of staring at your screen for hours and the swig of tequila had your head throbbing. “I should be over this by now…”

You could feel your eyes sting with tears at the thought—unbelieving of what came out of your mouth. You had always believed you’d be one of the few young couples that would make it. Constantly ignoring people calling you stupid for marrying young—adamant even as your marriage crumbled in front of your eyes.

And while you wished you should’ve listened to them, you knew you wouldn’t trade your years with him—despite how short it was.

“No, we’re sorry, hun,” Baela’s immediate apology had you sighing, you don’t doubt that they felt bad, you just knew they weren’t sorry for calling Jacaerys a pussy.

Before the divorce even got finalized they were already telling you how miserable he was after moving back into his childhood home. Scoffing whenever they’d tell you how he missed you, how many times he had asked of any news from you. But you never believed them.

How could you?

He pulled away first. He wouldn’t talk. He broke his promise.

He left you.

The ground beneath you crumbled the moment you entered your shared apartment and found most of his stuff missing. A lone sticky note held only eight words.

I thought we could do it. I’m sorry.

In the end, you couldn't even blame him.

You try to keep yourself together as you say your ‘goodbye’s; hesitantly agreeing to come to Rhaenyra and Harwin’s anniversary party—immediately regretting saying yes when you ended the call.

Regretting brushing off Rhaenyra and Lucerys' attempts to stay in touch even more—you could already feel the awkward smiles you were about to exchange, your skin growing hot at the thought of a family you once called your own acting like strangers meeting for the first time.

“Fuck.”

You should've know better.

Rhaenyra and Harwin’s party wasn't just an anniversary. It was when two lovers rekindled after years of being apart by fate. Their lives separated by a force they couldn't stop and brought back together by another. It only made sense that their family celebrates with them.

You just didn't know if you were still a part of that family.

The dress stares at you from your closet as you watched the clock tick. The pit on your chest deepening as it goes on. You had contemplated bailing, but after months of bailing on plans with the twins, you felt like you owed them this.

Thus why your body moves like a ghost around your apartment and as you moved to put your heels on your phone pinged with notifications with five new messages from the dating app you’re using and the another from Baela, telling you that they were downstairs.

You were looking at your phone as you entered the lobby, the dating app messages digging itself into your brain when you were joggled out of your mind. Groaning as two bodies collided against yours, seeing only white curls when you looked up.

“It’s been too long!” Rhaena gushed, kissing your cheek affectionately, while Baela stood uncharacteristically quiet. It wasn’t until you looked at her that you noticed where her gaze was fixed.

The messages on your phone kept coming. The guy you went out with weeks ago still asking you to go out again, even after you’d agreed it to be a one night thing. You sighed as you put your phone on silent and turned it off and you were met with the twins’ raised brows.

“Date went well?”

You could hear the smirk on Baela’s face as you scrunched your eyes in frustration; knowing they’d be asking for the details of your…date. And you weren’t really in the mood to recount how he didn’t even make sure you're properly taken care off before dashing out of your apartment.

“Yeah, for him most likely.” Rhaena’s giggle had you groaning loudly, alerting some patrons in the lobby of your displeasure. “Alright, alright, why don’t we stop talking about my sex life so openly!” Their giggling didn’t stop even as you pushed them out of the building and into their own car.

The forty minute car ride was enough to tell them stories of your disastrous one night stands— enough for you to forget the reason why you were initially reluctant to attend. Though if you were paying attention, you would've seen Baela's knowing looks, always able to look right through you.

While it was Baela that had encouraged you to fool around, you knew they had always believed you and Jacaerys would find yourselves back together.

“Maybe, it’s temporary…”

Rhaena tried to reassure you after listening to you sob after another night of sleeping alone. Your husband's warm body absent as you reached over with the intention of burying your face into his chest. Missing the smell of his curls when you run your fingers through them with his face shoved into the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your ear with each intake.

You sniffle as she rubs your back, while you were doubtful of her sentence, you tried to keep your head up high.

Yeah…marriages go through rough spots all the time. Gods, you could only hope this was temporary…

You were taken out of your reverie when Baela tapped the window next to you. Realizing you’ve arrived, your heart thumps in your ears with each step you take, fingers twitching at your sides as you looked at the familiar house in front of you, already hearing the voices of Jacaerys’ large family.

You wondered for a split second if they would notice if you booked it. Just run away from the house like a madman before they even see you, but before you could ask for a few more minutes outside, the door opens revealing your former mother-in-law.

Her smile as radiant as her silver-gold locks.

She pauses for a moment as she registers who’s in front of her before immediately pulling you into a hug. “Oh, sweet girl.” She breathed, before releasing you from the hug with a deep breath. “How’ve you been, darling?” Her hands cup your cheeks as you feel your eyes water with joy.

“I’ve been great.” You breathed with a watery chuckle when she squeezes your face with her hands. A relieved smile stretches on her face as she greets both of her nieces with a kiss on their cheeks.

“I hope I’m not imposing—” You start to apologize before you get cut off by her again, almost offended you’d even think of that. “Absolutely not! Come, there’s plenty of space and plenty of food for everybody.” She ushers you all into the house and leaves you to make your way through the familiar house.

The last you heard about Jacaerys was him moving to his own home not far from here, unable to stray far away from his mother for long. It left you wondering if he was already here or if he had stopped to get a second cake for his large family.

You wandered to the living room trying to avoid the reunion for now and immediately getting pounced on by four white haired teenagers. Their disbelief enter your ears as they all tried to hug you at the same time, almost tackling you to the ground.

“You already got your turn!”

“Hey! Watch it!”

“You’re back!” They all screamed in unison, surrounding you as you try to steady yourself. You chuckled as they all clung to you like koalas. “There’s enough of me for everybody!” You rub their backs softly, chuckling as they continued their banter on low breaths.

Their murmured insults stop when they heard Rhaenyra call for them from the backyard. Her voice had all of them trailing after the other with only Jaehaera leaving you with a kiss on the cheek. Presumably off to get something last-minute from a store.

Figuring you needed a little bit of liquid courage to face the inevitable, you move toward the bar adjacent to their kitchen. And lo and behold, Jacaerys’ uncle, Aegon was already rummaging through the counters with a drink in his hand.

“I’ll take a glass of your incredibly mediocre Sangria!” You exclaimed playfully at the already tipsy man in front of you, knowing how proud he was of what he calls his 'mixology skills'.

As you expected, he immediately slammed his glass on the counter, his wine spill over his glass. “After six years that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“What’d you expect me to say? That I missed you and how you constantly harassed me?”

Your words lacked any bite to them as you tapped at the counter, chuckling lightly—recalling how he used to flirt with you to rile up Jacaerys—nervously looking around you, planning an escape in case he comes through the door.

“Don’t be flattered; I only wanted to piss off my nephew.” He chuckled, handing you a glass of wine instead before playfully leaning into you, brow raised dramatically as if it would swoon you. “Are you seeing some—”

“You wanted to piss me off, Uncle?”*

You freeze, shoulders rising to your ears as you stare at Aegon like a deer in headlights.

The sweet timbre of his voice cause you to take in a sharp breath, his eyes drifting to you at the sound. Heart stuttering in his chest at the sight of you in front of him. In his home. He breathes out your name, not believing you were so close and it punches a hole through your chest, yearning to have imagined the desperation in his voice.

You greet him with a tight-lipped smile, barely meeting his eyes before facing Aegon once more. Your forced smile had a familiar pool of guilt flooding his chest.

While he wasn’t expecting you to accept him with open arms, a small part of him thought that maybe—just maybe, you’d be able to look at him without hurt flashing in your eyes, reminding him of what he’s done; of all those canceled date nights, whenever he'd tell you you’d be going to bed alone for the nth time.

Especially the night where everything fell apart—before he ran away like the coward that he was.

As the silence stretches on, his grip on the boxed cake starts to slip while you continuously sip your wine; doing anything to avoid his eyes. Aegon watches on, a wicked smirk threatening to split his face as an idea strikes him to get his idiot nephew’s head out of his ass.

“So, before I was so rudely interrupted." He snapped his head at Jacaerys, a playful scolding look on his face before turning to you again. "Are you seeing someone?”

Despite your face begging him to stop, you mumbled a response, knowing he wouldn’t let it go even if Jacaerys hadn’t walked in. “Sometimes…”

Your whispered answer had Jacaerys’ heart plummeting, hands trembling at the thought of you with another man; laughing with him, your sweet smile beaming at him, his lips against yours, mapping your sweet—sweaty skin as you shake in his arms in bliss—He shakes his head trying to relieve himself of the unpleasant itch at the back of his head.

Placing the cake down on the counter in front of him, he rubs his eyes underneath his glasses uncomfortably. His attempt at a smooth escape fails as the ground sways beneath his feet, making his shoulder and hip bump against the doorway. “I-I’ll go–Ow! I'm O-ok, I– uh have-haven’t seen Mum yet I—yeah…”

He feels his eyes sting with tears, his chest heaving with greater breaths with each step. Finding himself inside a bathroom and immediately splashing his face with cold water. Watching the corners of his mouth tremble as he try to hold in sobs, his eyes start brimming with tears as his mind runs in disarray.

He should be over this by now. He thought he was. But seeing you in his home—so close yet so fucking far—had his heart cracking and tears streaming just as it had when he wrote that damn note. Just as it had that night.

“Jace-”

"I need to work.” He hissed through clenched teeth, fingers putting pressure at his throbbing temple. Eyes straining at the warm glow of his desk lamp making him squeeze his eyes shut every few seconds.

“You can go to bed, alright. I’ll join you in a few.” His tone was robotic, practiced.

You bristle at his words, eyes rolling at the sentence you’ve heard for months. Your scoff had him sharply turning to you, skin crawling at the sound. Your stomping figure irritating him further. You blink away the frustrated tears lining your eyes, too tired to be angry with him, at least you thought you were until you hear his footsteps advancing behind you.

”What do you want from me?!”

His words make you pause in the middle of the living room, disbelief coursing through your veins at his question. “Other than my fucking husband?!” Both of you red-faced as the ticking time bomb you called your marriage beats its last seconds.

Months of going to bed with tear stained pillows had your anger already boiling beneath the surface with only a few words spouted from his stupid pouty lips.

“Can I not do shit on my own anymore? Putting everything about you first before the company I’m going to inherit?” His rage engulfs any rationality behind his words, silencing every thought in his body begging him to stop before he loses you completely.

“That’s not the point, Jacaerys!” His words send a sharp sting through your chest. Is that what he thinks this was? That you wanted his attention simply to yourself?

“Then what is?!” He ran a hand down his face in exasperation, the throbbing in his head worsening every second the fight continues.

At this point your quarrel could be heard by anybody outside the massive window. The weightlessness of the curtains against the wind doing nothing to lighten the weight of the conversation.

”You haven’t been taking care of yourself and you fucking think I’m only concerned for myself?” If only he could see his disheveled state through your eyes; his hair tangled and oily and his eyes sink deeper into his cheeks. The stress eating him from the inside out—failing to realize he's slowly taking you with him.

The thunderous roar off your words echo through the living room and louder both of you get, the larger the wounds in your hearts become. Each word devoid of any reason and only said to serve one purpose: to hurt.

His laugh was humorless, doubting every single word that was coming out of your mouth. The tension grows with each step you take to get closer to one another. Unconsciously reaching for one another for comfort, not knowing that every step would lead to anguish.

“This has been going on for months,” You start lowly, “I’m not telling you to put me first—I’m beg—begging you to let me help you!” You watch as his face scrunches up in frustration, seeing the reflection of your own desperation in his eyes.

You wait, two, three, five beats of your heart, yet you didn’t see a shift in him. His brows furrowed as his shoulders remained straight.

“We promised each other, remember? We figure everything out. Together.” Your hand reaches for his cheek, the skin wet with tears beneath your thumb. You try to find his gaze and when you did, you regretted even starting this conversation.

“I don’t want to anymore…”

The resolution on his face had you flinching as if he struck you. No longer able to hold back tears, you step away from him, sobbing into your hand. He longed to reach for you, desperate to offer comfort despite being the one who had taken it away.

It wasn’t long until you ran to the guest bedroom, and only then did his resolve crack. Silent tears streaming down his face, guilt and regret constricting his throat as he realized what he’d done.

The same guilt and regret squeezing his throat as he stared at his reflection 6 years later.

A knock came at the door, a knock only his mother knew. Mumbling a weak ‘come in’ with a coarse throat, he tried to straighten himself up as his mother entered sheepishly. “How are you, my boy?” Her hand cup his cheek, squeezing softly before patting his jaw.

“Di-did you know she was gonna be here?” He ignored her question for his own, his mind too preoccupied with you to think about anything else.

The skin of his knuckles was pulled as tight as his voice was—cold against the porcelain sink—and to his surprise his mother was quiet, only looking at him with slight guilt in her eyes.

“I didn’t think she would even consider—”

“You invited her?”

Rhaenyra sighed, already expecting his reaction. She accepted Jacaerys with open arms when he showed up on her doorstep after that faithful night, offering shelter and a shoulder to cry on when divorce papers showed up at the mail after only a few days.

Although she understood Jacaerys’ decision to end the relationship, Rhaenyra couldn’t help but find him foolish at his approach. She told him not to think too hard about the company, as he was still too young and had time to learn and shadow, yet he did and as such he lost you.

She watched her eldest bury himself further into work once he came back from court looking as though he just came back from war. In a sense, it took his entire body to move that pen, as though he was wielding a sword to sign those papers, signifying the end of your marriage.

Only changing his ways after…a few words from his cousins. Which made him feel even guiltier; regret building in his chest after realizing how easy it was to balance his life. How he still could’ve had you in his arms.

Even then, even after six years—she could still see his fingers trace the skin of his finger, where his ring used to be.

“Jacaerys,” She started, ignoring the scoff she received. “You can’t just expect your cousins to stop hanging out with her. Besides,” Her low voice echoed inside his head, her next sentence pulling at his gut once more. “You got what you wanted…”

But he didn’t.

As the night goes progresses, you could feel his eyes on you as you made your way around the backyard, maintaining a careful distance away from him. Despite your attempts at avoiding him, your gaze would often find his figure whenever you enter a room. Unable to look away when his face lights up while talking to his family, his body animated and wild as he recounts whatever story he was telling. His laughter shaking his entire body have those sweet dimples emerging from his cheeks.

You had repeatedly shook off those thoughts, hastily fleeing the room. Unaware of Jacaerys’ eyes following you, silently hoping for the day when his presence would not pain you. A fool’s hope. Reaching for a sense of comfort he himself took away.

Deep in his gut—a selfish, cruel part of him—begged to look for you; fighting the question that lingers in his mind. Yet he knew you’d flee before he even entered the room. He couldn’t blame you for it.

Talking to his family had been less awkward than you thought; conversations flowing through each of you as if you never left. The backyard roaring with laughter from stories of the past six years, causing your entire body to feel flushed despite the howling of leaves surrounding you.

They’ve refrained from mentioning the elephant in the room, only smirking to themselves when your gazes fix on one another from a distance, and while you appreciated it, it only made Jacaerys anxious.

He knew how his family was; it was just a matter of time before one of them slips up and he thanked the gods it was closer to the end of the night, where everyone's drunken asses were lounging in the living room.

“Six years and you still don’t have a wife, Aegon?” You giggled, pushing his head away when he tried to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Only because I’ve been waiting for you.” He drawled out, pouting at you as if asking for a kiss, the cushion bouncing under him when you pushed him away. Giving you a wink that was more like a slow blink from his drunken eyes.

Jacaerys watches with clenched jaws, glasses fogging up from the subtle huffs he let out while his fingers restlessly tapping his thigh. The poorly hidden anger growing on his face as Aegon grows too comfortable for his liking and your melodic laughter reaching his ears; always as sweet as a hymn.

He catches your eyes while everyone’s laughter roars at Aegon’s antics. And for a moment, he watches your grin fade and reappear forced before he mustered a pained smile of his own.

“Only had to wait five years for Jacaerys to fuck up.”

Aemond’s smooth chuckle causes everybody’s laughter to halt, their eyes darting between you and Jacaerys. The thread that pulled at Jacaerys’ patience snapping at his uncle’s smug look—the latter’s smirk only growing wider when Jacaerys abruptly stood, face contorting in anger before storming off.

Footsteps fade away in the silence of the room, until Rhaena elbows Aemond and his drink spill over his expensive suit at the impact. Looking around as though his words hadn’t affected tone of the conversation.

Jacaerys’ reaction lingered in your mind, leaving you unsure of what he’d actually felt about your relationship, trying to shake of your curiosity.

Looking at your cup, you wait until Aemond left the room after receiving an admonished look from Rhaenyra. The silence that followed was deafening and by then the liquid in your cup could’ve evaporated with the intensity of your gaze.

You dared to look up thinking that pity would face you, but instead their eyes held the same confusion as your own.

All except Aegon and Rhaenyra. Their expression had no disbelief—the former smug with knowingness while Rhaenyra offered you a sympathetic smile, gesturing to Lucerys to check on his brother.

“Sorry about him, hun.” She sighs, feeling Harwin’s lips on her temple, rubbing her shoulder before he followed after his sons.

“He wasn’t wrong.” Baela’s murmured reply had you groaning quietly as opposed to Aegon’s unabashed cackle.

But the conversation stopped there as it’s seems your exhaustion was plastered across your face. Your tired eyes blink to keep yourself awake, your keys shining in front of you, as if inviting you to hole yourself in your apartment once more.

“Come, I’ll take you home.”

Barely able to process who’s voice it was, you let yourself get dragged to the foyer, feeling another set of hands put your coat on you before you were—unfortunately for your tipsy mind—spun around.

Rhaenyra softly smiles at your sleepy figure before drawing you into a massive hug, savoring it—not knowing when she was going to see you again. “It was great seeing you again, my girl.” She breathed against your hair as she watches Aegon exit the house, likely pulling your car around the porch.

“Was ‘mazing seein’ you too, mum.” In your inebriated state, you didn’t realize what you’d just muttered. Not even registering her sharp intake of breath when the words left your mouth, tears lining her eyes; recalling what it felt like having you around.

Years of watching you grow up with her children meant Jacaerys wasn’t the only one who lost you. There were traces of you everywhere in the house—traits of yours that stuck to her younger children; Viserys’ favorite ice cream flavor was yours, his clothing style similar to your own, and Aegon refuses to cut his hair after you braided it, adamant to keep styling his hair that way.

You almost fall asleep on her shoulder waiting for Aegon, dozing off while walking toward your car and you opened your eyes thinking you were still at the car, instead you were already at your apartment, tucked in your bed with your pj’s on with a loud knock sounding the entire apartment.

You groan at the repeated contact of bone against wood; getting your hopes up whenever it would stop and groaning out when the sound continued, diminishing your hopes of ignoring it. You try to bury yourself on your blankets but the muffled sound of the knocks just drove you crazy even further.

“I’M COMING, YOU—” Stopping yourself, you let out an aggravated sigh as you stomp your way through your barren walls to your door. You’re never gonna hear the end of it from your neighbors.

Groaning, you strain your eyes to look through the peephole, seeing Lucerys’ silhouette on the other side. You opened the door and was about to question why he drove forty minutes here—and why he was knocking on your door like a maniac—when your eyes met his.

Jacaerys.

Leaning against your door with a strange look in his eyes until he registers your figure. His face morphing into one of desperation, eyes pleading but you only stare at him with your mouth agape, unsure of what to make of his appearance. Lodging his foot between the door before you could fully shut the door.

“Please. I just—I want to talk.” You press your forehead to the cool surface of the door, squeezing your eyes shut at his defeated tone. After six fucking years now he wants to talk? You swear you could slap him when you let him in. Looking like a small child being scolded with his slumped shoulders and hesitant steps into the apartment he once lived in.

You only stare at him, feeling your pulse quicken as a lump threatens to form in your throat. Your steps carry you to the living room, hairs standing up when you feel him following you.

And after six years, you were back in the same spot as you were that evening. Mournful eyes staring at one another as the moon shines over your living room once more, serving as a looming figure—a thought—threatening to swallow you both in darkness you’ve easily welcomed before.

He looks at you then. With sorrowful eyes, he wishes he didn’t see the resolution in yours.

Steadily—eyes not leaving yours—he reaches for the lamp on your side table, bathing the living room with warmth despite the breeze clawing through the curtains. Watching your breath hitch as you look at him with bated breath, afraid of what’ll come out of his mouth and of what’ll come out of yours if you decide to speak.

After a few beats, he gained some courage to talk.

“I made a mistake.” He gulped audibly, fingers twitching at his sides as he searches your face for any sign of agreement.

“You didn't.”

Color drains from his face at your response, nose growing hotter as he desperately fights his tears from spilling. “W-what?” He feels the ground tremble beneath his feet, flinching away from you before—as slow as your heart beats—he held out his hand, reaching for your own before you could back away.

Surprisingly, you let him. You let him hold you like he used to; hands cupping your face as tears spill freely from your eyes.

You feel yourself melting in his arms despite your efforts not to, a deep sigh escaping your lungs. The weight lingering whenever you’d find each other’s gaze across the party comes crashing down. Bathing you in grief.

Grief either of you couldn’t let yourself feel after the split—grief even before your marriage fell apart. Breaths of relief mingling in the air between you after being apart for so long.

“I—It wasn’t a mistake,” You try to say through hiccups, squeezing your eyes shut, afraid of seeing the same look in his eyes as you did that night. The same storm of melancholy weaving itself into his dark eyes. But his thumb pushes your chin up, eyes longing to hold your own.

“It was. My love, It was a big fucking mistake. Please.” His throat squeezes, voice to rise in pitch, almost whimpering as his grip on you tightens. Afraid you’ll slip through his fingers once more.

You finally look at him, eyes shining with something unrelated to your tears, smiling sadly at him. Your face turns blurry, his tears obstructing the view of your smile before he squeezes his eyes shut. Feeling an anvil press into his chest as his lips tremble despite his teeth’s pressure.

“Jacaerys—”

“Ple—please. I’m so fucking sorry for what I did. I know I can’t change what I’ve done—can’t ever take away the pain I caused, b-but I want to fix whatever I can.” He needed you. It was stupid it took him loosing you to realize it but he won’t have you slipping off his fingers—not again. “I want you back in my life…”

“I don’t want to cry again, Jacaerys…” You couldn’t go through those nights again. Nights of waiting for him to show up at dinner, of canceled plans, of feeling his side of the bed grow colder.

He feels his heart break all over again at your pained voice, looking at him, afraid of him fucking up—of him leaving you, again. “What-what if it doesn’t—If we don’t work—if we’re not supposed to?”

“No. We are. We’re supposed t-to be together.” He pressed. “Please.”

He knows it. He knew it from the moment Baela introduced you and you both couldn’t keep your eyes off each other.

From the moment you giggled at him when ice cream got on his nose during your first date. From the moment he proposed to you in the very same spot you’re standing on. After dancing with you on sleepless nights and seeing the stars twinkle in your eyes as you looked up at him. He knew it.

“Jace.”

An inkling of hope builds in his chest at the name you whispered. Sighing shakily when he feels you nuzzle your nose in the crook of his neck. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to be consumed by him, how his arms wrap around your entire back, hands clutching your sides, your bodies molding into each other—becoming one as you’re drowned in his scent.

You could feel his tears soak through your shirt, marring your skin with its gentle touches, before you slowly pull away.

His eyes mirror your own, lashes fluttering when your palm softly cups his cheek, nuzzling further into your hand before his lips press against your palm, pleading.

“It wasn’t Jace,” You started, watching his eyes shut painfully. ‘A mistake’ goes unsaid, unable to watch him flinch at the word.

You knew what you were doing was risky, laying your heart and soul out for him to burn to ashes. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care, willing—yearning to feel his warm arms surround you once more. To burn for him for eternity.

“Maybe…we needed time; figure ourselves out before we could…” You trail off when he looks up at you, eyes sparkling with hope at your words.

“Y-You’re saying—” He doesn’t care if he looks desperate—he is. If you weren’t clutching onto him like a vice, he would’ve already bruised his knees for you; feeling his knees buckle when your soft lips brush his cheek.

Your soft ‘yeah’ fan over his cheek, foreheads a breath away, itching to feel each other again. Eyes mirroring each other’s sorrow as you drew closer, your nose nudging his causes his wet lashes to flutter close.

After what felt like eternity, your lips met his plump ones, the touch unsure before he pressed into you. A breath of relief escaping your lungs at his need.

The kiss was tender, savoring each gentle press; satiated after years of depravity from one another. Tears escape from both of your eyes making the kiss salty, your bodies trembling with longing despite being so close together that you breathe in his sighs.

His hands run up and down your sides, beginning to sway you like the curtains dancing against the wind. He pours all his promises and apologies into the kiss—the oaths he’ll keep; never again would he push you away and take you for granted.

Years without you felt like waves washing over him repeatedly despite his efforts to swim up, and just a glimpse of you in his home was like a breath of fresh air.

Because no matter how hard he tried to make his new apartment a home, he never could. Not without your fuzzy slippers scattered somewhere, without your scent invading his senses whenever he’d enter the threshold—without you.

His breathless giggle slip through your connected lips, making you look up at him in question at the wonder swimming in his amber eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The look on his face similar to when you had your first kiss; overjoyed with relief at the chance to be yours. His features sharp against the moonlight yet his eyes shine gold at the warm light of your lamp.

He chuckles, eyes wrinkling at the edges, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately. His smile so infectious that the corners of your lips twitch up. You hide your giggle on the warm skin of his neck, lips softly pressing against it—the space in between you disappearing as he holds you flush against him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

As he stands there, swaying you to the rhythm of your beating heart against his, relief washes over him, though he knew his groveling wasn’t done. Not until the hesitance in your eyes disappears and the only thing he sees when you’re looking at him is joy—so much joy, it hurts your face at how much you’re smiling.

Just as he promised then and just as he’s promising the stars now.

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐦'𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐤 (𝐠𝐞𝐧. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭): @still-jon-snow | @vividxpages | @v3lary0ns | @gardenofhearts | @a-lina | @vee-mage

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