Chapter Text
She was trying not to look.
Trying… and failing not to stare at how well the soft looking sweater fit him. How good the new haircut looked. The soft waves, just like her own, so much shorter now. It was surprisingly easy to get used to the change.
Though there was less to grab and tug now.
"See something you like, niece?"
His voice brought her back to reality, pulling her out of that forbidden thought. She straightened out, not letting him faze her.
"I was just wondering who did that to your hair. Looks pretty uneven," she lied, gesturing with her hand towards the white strands.
Daemon chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, licking his bottom lip for any stray drops.
They kept staring at each other as the conversation around them continued. She could not tell you what the present company talked about.
Rhaenyra could never look away from her uncle when they were in the same room. Nothing could pull her attention from him. Not her father, not her stepmother, not the family friends seated all around them. Not her uncle's own girlfriend when he bothered to bring her along, though she was missing from tonight's gathering.
Maybe Rhaenyra would find it in her to feel bad about it if he wasn't exactly the same.
In a room full of people his eyes always found hers… and held.
She didn't know what he was thinking while looking at her with such intensity, but she was almost glad of it. Sometimes… after he drank a little too much; after he stared at her a little too hard… she could almost put a finger on the way he looked at her.
Like he wanted to devour her; body, mind and soul.
"Rhaenyra? Rhaenyra."
That was her father's stern voice.
She forced herself to pay attention to him, apologizing with a sardonic smile. "Yes, father?"
He sighed heavily, like his daughter constantly made his head hurt. She supposed that used to be true enough, but ever since she moved out he could barely complain. They didn't see each other often; they didn't speak often. He didn't know half the things she got up to.
But her uncle, on the other hand… he knew. He knew more than her own best friend. He knew more than anyone.
But still, not even he knew everything.
"Otto was asking about your job. What is it now? I'm not sure I know myself. Receptionist? Bookseller?"
Her father didn't sound happy with either possibility and Rhaenyra had to hold back her tongue to not snap at him. Like there was anything wrong with being a bookseller. Like there was anything wrong with whatever the hell she decided to do to pay her bills, other than ask her daddy for allowance. She knew he'd love that. He'd love to watch her crawl back home and beg to be taken back. Back into the family business. Back into his good graces. But there was nothing left for her there. Ever since she found out he never intended to pass the business on to her, she was bitter and held a grudge.
Maybe she ought to be upset with the person who would be getting all that she once thought belonged to her by right, but she knew none of it was her uncle's fault. He didn't ask to be named her father's company heir. He was simply… a man. And to her father, that was everything. To her family, that was all that mattered.
Fuck her family.
She lifted her eyes from where they strayed to the tablecloth and fixed them on her uncle again. He was already gazing back, a small smirk playing on his full lips.
Rhaenyra could feel her cheeks heat up and quickly she reached for a glass of water, draining it whole.
"I, um," she stuttered once she realized she still didn't answer. "I'm actually a makeup artist. I took a course a few weeks ago and have a certificate now and everything." The smile climbing to her face was genuine when she recalled how much fun she had with the rest of the girls. It was true that she didn't get to do much makeup in her everyday routine, mostly helping people find products or answer questions when they came to the shop, but still, it was a job she enjoyed. With people she liked. It was where she met her best friend, too. Laena was a kind, hilarious firecracker that took Rhaenyra in when she needed a place to crash.
Of course, back then the first number she called after smacking the door of her father's house close was of the man who was currently sitting across from her, but after sleeping in her uncle's guest bedroom for a few weeks, she decided it was time to get her shit together.
"You could stay," he'd said, watching her pack her bags. "As long as you need."
He hadn't been happy about her moving in with a coworker she met only a few days ago, but Rhaenyra had a good feeling about Laena.
"Don't worry, I'm sure she's not a serial killer," she'd teased, straightening up after zipping everything up.
Daemon was frowning. "Keep joking like that and you'll have me calling to check on you every twenty minutes." He'd crossed his arms in a stern gesture, only making her snicker harder.
"Aw, will you miss me? Will you miss me playing loud music and singing even louder? My hair ties scattered everywhere, even in the freezer somehow? Will you miss… gasp , my loud chewing?" With each flaw and annoyance of hers named, she'd prowled closer and closer until they were almost chest to chest.
Her smile had slowly faded when the only answer he'd offered was a quiet : "Yes."
They'd hugged then, tightly and for longer than proper, but the thoughts swimming in her head, the feeling coursing through her body… those were exactly the reasons she needed to move out.
Not that anyone knew about that.
"I think that's lovely." Rhaenyra blinked back into the present, noticing her stepmother smiling at her. "I always thought makeup art was beautiful. I wish I could do it." Alicent chuckled softly, her obviously makeup-less face blushing.
Rhaenyra didn't react to what was clearly meant to be an olive branch. She simply shrugged, her fork digging into the meal she barely touched.
Laena asked her before she left their apartment, why did she even bother going to this charade? After everything her father did, or didn't do, she didn't owe him anything. She didn't need to show up every time he snapped his fingers, needing to keep up the appearances.
Rhaenyra didn't know how to explain to her best friend that she came to these dinners, over and over again, to be able to spend as much time with her favorite person in the world as possible. She could call him any time, day and night, she knew. He'd always make time for her. But ever since she started having these thoughts… these feelings, she was bashful, almost afraid to spend alone time with him.
Like maybe he could tell. Maybe he could read it from her eyes which were constantly drawn to his, seeing her soul through the dark blue pools, straying to be joined with his.
She'd rather have her best friend believe she was a pushover than have her know the truth.
That she desired the one man she could never have.
〜
Daemon offered to take her home after the dreadful dinner was over, and she took a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
But really, what could she say that wouldn’t sound completely silly? It made sense he wanted to take her. She lived in the direction of his own apartment. It was dark and cold and his car was comfortable and warm.
"C'mon." He extended his hand once she slipped into her coat. "Let's get you home."
Her body was buzzing when she took his hand and he guided them out of the restaurant. Even in her heels she barely reached his collarbone, but her short legs had no problem catching up to his long strides. He always waited for her, walking by her side, never in any hurry to get ahead of her. He opened the door of his car for her and she thanked him quietly, slipping in. She noticed his eyes dropping down for a second as she settled and when he closed the door to make his way to the driver's seat, she examined the hem of her skirt, trying to see any tear or smudge from the meal.
There was nothing she could see.
Nervously, she took her phone out, aimlessly scrolling through her gallery. Something to keep her busy. Something to keep her eyes off of him for a change. She tapped a picture of her and Laena from a few days ago. Both of their faces were covered in green cucumber face masks, they were grinning, each with a glass of wine in hand.
“That the serial killer?” Daemon quipped from the driver’s seat. She couldn’t help but glance at him from the corner of her eye. Slowly, she took in the strong hand gripping the steering wheel. With those long, pale fingers. His other hand rested in his lap in a loose fist. She imagined joining that hand with her own, stroking his thigh, sliding her palm all the way up until she could feel…
“Um, yeah.”
Fuck.
This was exactly why she should have said no. Why she should have called an Uber.
She couldn’t be trusted around him.
And it was driving her crazy.
“Cute,” he spoke again in an amused tone, and her eyes jumped from his fingers to his face. She frowned, a strange, ugly feeling curling in her belly.
Laena? He thought Laena was cute?
Clenching her teeth, she whipped her head back to stare in front of her into the darkness outside. There was no way in hell she was going to admit to him that Laena herself had said on multiple occasions how attractive she found Daemon. One time, with a couple glasses of wine in, she begged Rhaenyra for his phone number. And she felt… exactly like she was feeling right now. Like she was losing her footing. Like someone reached in and rearranged her insides, leaving everything wrong and unnatural.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“You like living with her, then?”
She checked her phone again, this time to see how much longer until they reached her place.
At least six more minutes.
Sigh.
“Yeah. I like it,” she bit out, stubbornly looking everywhere but at him.
“And she doesn’t mind your loud singing and even louder chewing?” he continued, still with a smile in his tone.
Four minutes.
“Nope. She’s a very forgiving roommate. The best one I ever had.”
That caused him to finally stay quiet. She played with the edge of her black coat, absently biting her bottom lip. She was drowning in his delicious scent, her body too aware of his own so close to hers.
Rhaenyra missed him. So much. Their random midnight talks on the phone; even more random video calls where she showed him every single nook and cranny of her bedroom, where she explained the way she kept her makeup products categorized, the way her bookshelves were organized.
He always listened with the same undivided attention he did in her father’s business meetings. He asked her questions; about her newest hobby, the most recent book she read and loved.
Sometimes they would talk all the way into early morning and she would wake up a few hours later, with her phone wedged in between her ear and her pillow. Most of the time, her phone was dead when she came to, but after charging it enough to turn it back on, she could see the call went on long after she was already asleep.
He was her favorite person. Her very best friend.
Before one day, she looked at him… and realized he was so much more than that.
And everything was fucked.
Daemon stopped in front of the building she lived in, reaching to grab her coat when he noticed she was already ready to bolt.
“Wait, Rhaenyra. Please.” His fingers slid tenderly from the fabric of her coat until he closed them around her hand. “You’ve been avoiding me. Did something happen?”
She licked her lips, staring at their hands.
Why yes, uncle, I had multiple dreams where you bent me over your knee and spanked my ass until it was red from your palm and my thighs were drenched. But apart from that, nope, nothing!
“I’m just busy with work,” she mumbled instead, their breathing loud in the small space. His touch was warm, light and teasing.
“Too busy to call your dear old uncle every now and then?” He still sounded like he only joked, but she could hear the subtle edge to his words.
Perhaps he missed her too.
“I’ll… I’ll do better,” she forced out, grasping their connected hands in her other palm as well, leaning forward to catch his eye. He was watching her with dark, serious eyes, a piece of his cut hair dangling in front of his face. She bit her lip, blowing softly against the strand.
It didn’t even move, but it did make him crack a smile, and her pathetic little heart missed a beat. Their faces were closer now, so she finally gave into her desire and pressed her lips to his cheek. And holding, for a few precious moments, with her eyes closed.
“Goodnight, uncle,” she whispered against his skin, not missing the shiver that went through him at the motion.
Then, she let go and jumped out of the car.
Perhaps he more than missed her too.
Perhaps… he felt much more than she'd ever dared to hope before.