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[behavioural]

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me always

[behavioural]

( in truth, pierce has not known aemond for long. they have not spent much time together, aside from two heated joining of the flesh. he knows little of aemond's family or the world that he originates from because he has never felt a reason to ask, to pry into affairs that have no relation to his own. even when he had agreed to protect alicent hightower, he didn't bother to ask for more detail than what he needed to ensure that he got the right woman.

arguably, his indifference does not lend credence to why they both find themselves here now — one on the tail end of a genuine admission and the other left to ruminate on why, of all the persons he has met in this manor, aemond is the one he chose to give it.

but pierce strickland cannot claim to be a honest or sentimental creature. at his core, he is self-serving, calculative and terribly broken — and is this exchange not just a desperate attempt for him to regain some semblance of power over a life that has spiraled completely out of his own control?

if he was a better person, perhaps he would have had the foresight to circumvent misunderstanding.

but it's too late for that and, even if there had exist any signs of conflict within aemond's eye, he is far more enthralled by the sapphire in the other, having said what he needed to and, at least for a moment, able to take note and appreciate the unraveling of what was once concealed from his sight.

he doesn't pull away from aemond, yet the sharpness of his eyes and the rigidness of his features do not waver at the warmth of his touch. if anything, they seem to intensify with a renewed heat and, perhaps, an ever subtle hint of confoundment. )

You tell me. ( his voice soft and direct, his accent almost imperceptible as he purposefully leans into the caress of aemond's hand. )

[provoke]

[ quietly, almost as if he's telling himself; ]

I don't know. But I do.

[ pierce is not like him, but aemond doesn't need him to be. pierce matches his anger, matches his penchant for violence but differently. this place has taken his life apart in ways foreign to aemond, and he supposes it's something similar for pierce. there is no control. there is no distance from the world that presses its will against their own. aemond does not have a dragon to burn his enemies with, to cleanse the earth so that it might be rebuilt into something he understands.

he doesn't understand pierce either. but he understands his anger, the rage over the offence and at family and at all of the fuckery this place has offered without reprieve.

fingers near-cut into skin, but not out of a desire to hurt. he wants to feel. to touch the living heartbeat within pierce's body.

aemond settles for kissing him instead. ]