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[halfyeared]

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[halfyeared]

[She almost expects this, when he does pull away. Of course she wants more, but this feels a bit more final. She tries to get her fingers to tangle with his, wanting to fight against it, but the more she pushes against him, the more she may lose him. She closes her eyes a moment, trying to push away the heat that’s still raging through her.

What’s more important is that she doesn’t want this to end like this, simply because of her stubbornness. It doesn’t mean she wants him any less, but she still doesn’t want him to just go. Small fingers tug at him lightly, trying to get his attention.]

At least kiss me goodbye. [Maybe that last one was meant to be her goodbye, but she can’t just let it end like this, with him in a hurry. Maybe she could accept it this way, if it was truly final.]

[valonqri]

[The heat continues to fade from him but he's no less frustrated than he was before. At himself, less at her. Embarrassed. Foolish. It'd be less difficult if she were mad, but he can't expect that. He can handle a flying goblet and venomous words. Call him a whoreson or anything else. But instead her voice is small and sad and disarming.

She draws his hand and he lets it hand there among her fingertips before he turns to look down at her over his shoulder then to their hands. His tongue presses against the roof of his mouth, jaw tightening as he considers whether to indulge her request or not. Thinking he shouldn't. All the while the thumb of his captured hand moves to stroke whatever finger its wrapped around.

Without giving her an answer he turns to face her again, freeing his own hand from hers to reach up and cup her face between his hands again. Footsteps wading closer again to close this distance. The moment he stares down at her feels like it lasts longer than it does before he bends down and kisses her again. This one is more simple. An apology, if he's even capable of such a thing. Truly indicative of the last one.]

[halfyeared]

[His reciprocal touch, the feeling of his calloused thumb sweeping over her fingers, is enough of a confirmation. She doesn’t understand the internal struggle, but is aware he’s battling it. She offers a sincere if not sad sort of smile in turn. It’s okay, it says. Even if it’s not. Even if nothing about this is okay on any sort of level.

She’ll be okay, she knows. If there’s one thing about Rhaenyra, she perseveres. She must. She finds some way. And if it is not right now, then she will make some way of finding what she wants in the marriage with Laenor, because she cannot imagine a passionless marriage. She would also hope Laenor is happy, and she already doubts that physically she probably cannot make him happy.

The kiss she responds with is softer than the others, one that probably speaks more in truth. She wants him of course, that fire within her begging to come out. If her fingers curl against his hand, it is to physically stop her from trying to pull him down again. He’s made it clear, and she has to respect it even if she doesn’t like it. She has to content herself with these final moments, as hard as they are to let go.]

[valonqri]

[ It somehow makes everything more awful. The bitter notes and the sweet ones. Almost as though he'd much rather now have left hours ago. Daemon's never been the one for goodbyes. He is more often there and then suddenly he isn't, blowing down his own path in and out of the city without so much a word. If there's any word, it's delivered by foot from whatever inconvenienced soul that might be last to see him.

He's no better at them now. Parting from her only after a moment and not looking to linger. He releases her from between his hands with a fleeting graze of his thumb along her cheek. The disentanglement is swift but gentle. Not giving her the breath of another opportunity. Once he turns away and starts heading back for the secret panel he'd come through earlier, he doesn't speak a word nor look back. ]

[halfyeared]

[She sits on the edge of her bed, holding his hand until the very last second she could, as if she could will him to not leave with her touch alone. She has tried this entire time to get him to stay, but it was futile. It hurts seeing him leave, but at least she got something out of it, even if she no more understands his leaving now than she did the other night when he stormed out of the brothel without her.

She still feels worked up, more saddened now. It is a sort of completion, a resolution. It's not what she wanted at all, but it doesn't feel so empty or hanging over her. She feels like she's never wanted something more than she wants him now, but she has no way of making him feel the same, or act on it anyway. She knows he does. He could not deny that fact, not even in front of her. So her shoulders just slump as his figure slinks further and further away, never looking back or saying another word. She's gotten her goodbye after all-- as empty as the pit in her chest feels now.]