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sapphire-writes · 1 year ago

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Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 10 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: The day of the King's Landing annual regatta is upon us! You and the gang go camping and summer officially comes to an end. But what about you and Aemond?

word count: 5.4k

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, explicit p in v, fingering, praise, nipple play, oral (fem receiving), spanking, kissing, angst, fluff, crying

note: and there were have it! the ending of my summer series. I hope you all enjoy, and thank you THANK YOU for all the support and love! I couldn't have done it without you all ❤️

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected ❤️

The week goes by, and no matter how tightly you try to hold onto them, the days slip through your fingers like sand—swimming with Baela, visiting with Sara and Cregan at work, and causing mischief with Aegon and Helaena. Helping Luke, visiting Rhaenyra and little Visenya at Dragonstone, shopping downtown with Floris, and spending hours curled up with Aemond at the end of each day.

It’s not enough.

You’re with Aemond now in the living room of the Targaryen-Hightower home the night before the regatta watching a movie. Well, you suppose you were watching a movie a little while ago, but then Aemond put his hand on your thigh and one thing led to another. The movie is still playing but you’re straddling Aemond’s waist, arms wrapped around his neck, his hands pressed on your lower back molding you to him as he kisses the life out of you.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been making out, you’ve just been enjoying the uninterrupted time alone. The feeling of his hands caressing you, squeezing you closer. His talented mouth molded against yours, tongue slipping into your mouth as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

Your phone vibrates, breaking the spell, and Aemond grabs it for you. It’s Sara calling, her picture filling the entirety of the screen. You’d taken it earlier in the week; she’s resting her cheek on her hand leaning across the bar at the Wolf Den. Leaning back you decline the call before tossing it onto the couch.

Aemond’s hands slide down to your waist, cupping your ass as you grind against him, capturing his lips in another heated kiss. Your phone continues to buzz on the couch, but the two of you ignore it this time, too wrapped up in each other to care. One of Aemond’s hands trails up your back before resting on the back of your neck, fingers flexing slightly against the sides of your throat.

A shiver ripples down your spine and you tighten your arms around his neck. Sara must have ceased her attempts to reach you, as your phone has gone silent. From somewhere upstairs a door opens, followed by the soft pitter-patter of footsteps.

“AHEM!” Helaena’s voice calls from the top of the stairs. You pull away from Aemond’s mouth--an incredibly hard feat. “I am coming down the stairs! If there are any body parts out that a sister shouldn’t be seen I advise them to be put away!”

You push against Aemond’s chest as he brings his lips to caress the skin of your jaw down to your neck, just below your ear. You wiggle against his grip, his hands digging into the meat of your ass trying to keep you on his lap. It’s no use, you can’t get off unless he lets you.

“Aemond-”

“No,” he growls, nipping your earlobe, “You’re staying right here.”

“Helaena will scream.”

“It’s not like my cock’s inside you,” he teases, smirking as your eyes widen, “Unless-”

“Not now,” you hiss, cheeks heating up at the thought.

“Later then?” he says cheekily.

You don’t answer, just roll your eyes at him as Helaena’s footsteps come down the stairs. Her eyes are squeezed shut, a slight grimace on her face.

“Are you decent?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Mostly,” Aemond answers, and she opens her eyes.

“Sara called,” she says, holding her phone out, “Mandatory gathering. End-of-summer tradition.”

“We don’t have end-of-summer traditions,” Aemond argues.

“We’re making one then,” Helaena insists.

“What are we doing?” you ask.

Helaena moves further into the living room, plopping down on a comfy-looking leather chair.

“Camping on the beach,” she tells you, “Cregan and Sara will be there, Egg, Luke, Jace, Bae, and Rae. It’ll be nice. Boost Luke’s morale before the regatta.”

“You’re down for this?” you ask Aemond, and he shrugs.

“I suppose.”

“You don’t seem like a roughing-it sort of guy,” you tease, fingers running through his hair.

Aemond brings his hand down across your left asscheek, harshly spanking you. You let out a surprised squeal as he massages the tender skin through your shorts. It stings but sends a delicious wave of want directly to your center. Helaena frowns.

“On that note, I am going to vomit,” she says, dramatically sighing as she gets up, “Be there tonight! And bring your own tent! I am not sharing with you two.”

Helaena retreats up the stairs and you shake your head at Aemond.

“You’re impossible,” you tell him, and then he kisses you once more, and any thoughts of reprimanding him slip from your mind.

“I know how to build a fucking fire-” Aegon grumbles, fiddling with the logs you’d collected for the firepit.

You’d all spent the evening setting up the tents and collecting firewood. Needless to say, you were all significantly hungry and waiting anxiously for the fire to start so you could roast some hotdogs and marshmallows. A summer feast.

“You’re doing it wrong-” Helaena tells him, for the fifth time.

“Fucking drench the bitch!” Aegon says, grabbing the bottle of lighter fluid from Helaena, and squeezing a thick stream of liquid onto the logs.

“You’re gonna blow us up---” Helaena cautions as Aegon lights several lit matches before tossing them into the fire pit. The logs and paper burst into flames instantly, flames licking upwards sending sparks flying into the night sky.

“Dracarys!!” Aegon yells, maniacally laughing, and ignoring Helaena’s scolding.

A wave of heat rushes over you as the fire continues to blaze. You lean back against Aemond, shielding your face from the heat before the fire calms. Baela reaches into her backpack, tossing you a package of marshmallows.

“Can’t camp without s’mores,” she says.

“Or beer,” Aegon counters, before drumming on the cooler he brought.

“Can someone open these?” Sara asks, struggling with the package of hotdogs.

Luke helps her, though he’s been quiet all evening. Jace told you earlier when helping with your tent that he’s been really nervous the past couple of days. He sits now across the fire from you, his knee bouncing uncontrollably.

As you begin to roast marshmallows, Rhaena speaks up. “Let’s play a game,” she says, turning her hotdog on the fire.

“What game?” Aegon asks.

“Never have I ever?”

“Fucking ace.”

“I’ll start!” Baela says, a mischievous grin on her face, “First to five loses. Never have I ever been arrested.”

Aegon scowls at her as he assembles his s’more, putting one of his fingers down. “Never have I ever….shit this is hard.”

You all laugh and the game continues. Aegon inevitably loses first which sends all of you into fits of hysterical laughter. You all stay around the campfire just talking, and sharing stories. It’s nice and makes you feel warm with love for everyone there. You lean against Aemond, feeling his arm tighten around you. You feel like you could stay like this forever. You wish you could.

You don’t retire to your tent until the fire is nothing more than a pile of embers, sending tendrils of gray smoke curling toward the sky. Aegon didn’t bring a tent, insisting he wanted to sleep under the stars. But you noticed he didn’t protest when Sara offered to share hers. Cregan had raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing.

You could hear giggling from everyone’s tents, low whispers, and rustling sleeping bags. The small noises were rather comforting, knowing everyone was around you and happy. Aemond entered your tent, zipping it shut behind him, leaving no screen exposed except the roof so you could look up at the stars.

You still haven’t talked with him.

Aemond lays next to you on top of the sleeping bags, reaching an arm out and pulling you flush against him. Without thinking, your mouths find each other in the darkness, and suddenly you’re kissing him trying to quell the intense ache of need deep inside of you. You wonder if you’ll always feel like this for him. Just needy. It’s never enough with Aemond. You always crave more.

Aemond rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. The tent is small but big enough that your head doesn’t press against the screen of the ceiling. His hands wander down your sides, before creeping up under your t-shirt, thumbs caressing the hardened peaks of your nipples. He pinches them, lightly tugging until you gasp against his mouth.

“Shhh,” he says, kissing you, “You gotta be quiet baby, someone will hear.” As he says it, he lets one hand slip lower, under the waistband of your shorts, “Fuck you’re soaked already.”

“I can’t help it,” you whisper into his mouth, earning a soft groan from him, “What did you say about being quiet?”

Aemond chuckles at your teasing, rubbing slow circles around your clit with his thumb, fingers teasing your entrance. You grind your hips down, trying to help him get the hint. As he kisses you once more, you can feel his smirk and know he’s playing with you.

“You want me to beg?” you ask breathlessly, the stimulation on your clit making your head buzz.

“Maybe,” Aemond teases, “I like when you beg.”

“If I start, they’ll hear me all the way at Dragonstone,” you tell him, feeling your cheeks burn with the admission.

Aemond is pleased with that response it seems, as he sinks two lengthy digits inside you, crooking them upwards against your spongy walls. You bite your lip, trying to hold in a whimper. Successfully, it comes out as a quiet whine. Aemond curls his fingers, finding the rough patch inside you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“You….you are way too good at that…” you tell him, suppressing another moan as you shudder on top of him.

Your eyes have adjusted to the low light, and you can make out the features of his face in the starlight. A slash of a smile appears on his handsome face.

“Oh really?” he says in a low, throaty voice, “What else am I good at?”

You swirl your hips on his fingers, desperately riding them as pleasure moves a path up your spine and fire pools in your lower belly.

“Fishing for compliments?” you tease as he lets a third finger stretch you out, “Oh fuck…”

“Shhhh…fuck you’re so tight,” Aemond murmurs, as you clench around his fingers, “Need to feel this perfect pussy wrapped around my cock baby.”

You can hear the wet sounds his fingers make sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, and feel the slickness on your inner thighs.

“Yeah, you wanna cum baby?” he murmurs, kissing you softly, “I’ll make you cum pretty girl, that’s it, …that’s good isn’t it?”

“Fuck it feels so good,” you whimper against his mouth, “Fuck Aemond, make me cum please.”

Your release tightens in your belly as he applies just the right amount of pressure on your clit to send you tumbling over the edge. Your pussy constricts his fingers in a vice and Aemond brings his free hand to your waist, flipping you onto your back as your orgasm begins to peak.

His fingers are still inside of you as he brings his hand to press on your lower stomach and you slam your hand over your mouth to keep from screaming. Aemond’s fingers never relent, and he grins down at your desperation to keep quiet. Your muffled cry is still audible and you desperately hope everyone else is asleep or otherwise occupied to notice.

Slowly, Aemond removes his fingers, seating himself between your legs and dragging your shorts and underwear the rest of the way off. You wiggle your hips to help him and he tosses the pile of clothing to the opposite end of the tent. You can feel his hot breath on your center before his tongue flattens against you, dragging a slow, tortuous path up your dripping slit.

“Is this another talent of mine?” he asks, kissing your sensitive clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

Your hips lurch, your back arching off the ground, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as his tongue caresses your bud.

“No?” he teases, pulling away, “If you don’t like it I can stop-”

“Yes!” you whisper, “Yes it’s so good, please, please don’t stop--” His mouth is back on you in an instant, tongue lapping at your folds before pressing inside of you. God, it feels so good having his tongue inside of you. The warm, wet muscle works wonders as he hums in appreciation of your praise.

His hands squeeze your hips, nose bumping against your clit as he eats you out. Your fingers grip his hair holding on for dear life, nails digging into his scalp. You can hear the sounds of him slurping and moaning as he devours you, his large hands moving under your thighs, pressing them backward so your knees touch your chest.

“Fucking hell,” you whimper, as your legs begin to tremble with the approach of your second release, and Aemond presses his face into you harder.

You worry for a moment how he can possibly breathe, though that doesn’t seem to be a present concern in his mind as he buries his face in your pussy. Aemond eats you out like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life. He moves his face upwards, the cleft of his nose resting perfectly against your clit; it rubs incessantly at the sensitive button and a cry breaks through your lips as you’re thrown into your release. Warmth blooms through your abdomen and down your legs and Aemond squeezes the soft flesh of your thighs tightly as they shake.

“Gods oh--fuck,” you whimper as he greedily laps at the new wave of wetness that coats your inner thighs. His tongue works its way slowly, leaving no part of you untouched by the talented muscle.

Aemond places a kiss on your thighs as he releases his hold, and you release a shuddery breath. He chuckles, gently nibbling the tender skin of your inner thighs, before making his way back up towards your mouth. His hands brush the hem of your t-shirt, moving it so he can kiss a path up your stomach. You help him with his task, grabbing the edge and pulling it off, tossing it in the corner with the other forgotten garments.

Completely bared before him, he sits on his haunches looking at you. Aemond brings one hand to your waist, dragging his fingers along your curves.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, and you reach for him, pulling him into a kiss.

Your hands tear at his clothes, removing his shirt and pants between exchanges of greedy kisses until he’s resting on top of you, thick length splitting you open and resting deep inside of you. You brush some hair from his forehead, letting your fingers run down the length of his scar. Aemond breathes deeply, not yet moving, just staring longingly into your eyes before he turns, pressing a kiss to the tips of your fingers.

The sweet action takes your breath away, and Aemond rolls his hips gently, dragging his cock nearly all the way out of you before pushing back in. It’s intimate, it’s lovemaking. Just smooth, slow strokes, unhurried and passionate.

Aemond buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing where your throat meets your shoulder. You hold him impossibly close, nails clawing at his back, legs wrapped around his slender waist. Neither of you speaks, there are no words to express the emotions between you at this moment. You know he feels it too, you can feel it in the way he’s making love to you.

“You close?” Aemond murmurs, letting his hand snake between your bodies to rub at your clit.

“Yes,” you breathe, and he moves to kiss you once more before he returns his attention to your neck.

“Fuck,” he breathes, trembling on top of you, “You’re so--fucking perfect.”

You can feel your third orgasm cresting, and suddenly you’re clenching around his thick cock, spurring him toward his own release. Aemond shudders as you cum, a breathy whimper leaving him as you feel his cock twitch inside of you followed by a bloom of warmth deep within you.

He rests on top of you for a moment more, and you hug him tightly against you. As he unsheathes himself from your warmth he kisses your lips, cradling your face in his hands.

Your time is running out. Time with him is slipping through your fingers like sand. Aemond lays beside you on top of his sleeping bag. You turn on your side to face him. Well, here goes nothing.

“Hey,” you begin, and Aemond turns on his side.

“Hey,” he echoes, bringing a hand to brush some hair out of your face.

His hand lingers, fingers tracing a path behind your ear and down your neck. He has to stop doing that, you can’t think when he’s doing that.

“I think we need to talk-”

“Yeah,” Aemond agrees, fingers continuing their journey across your shoulder and down your arm, “We do.”

The tent suddenly feels even smaller, the sexual tension between you heavy along with the conversation that needs to be had. Aemond’s hand meets yours and laces his fingers through your much smaller ones.

“I mean….I…” you begin, struggling to find the words.

Aemond is silent, watching you. His thumb smoothes circles on the back of your hand. You meet his eye.

Oh god.

You can’t do it.

Not yet.

“Aemond…”

“After the regatta,” he says softly, a knowing look in his eye, “We’ll talk. Is that okay?”

A rush of relief rolled through you, and your anxiety calmed for one more night. One more night. Then you’ll face it. You can’t speak, your throat is tight with emotion. You nod, fighting back tears. Aemond releases your hand, bringing it to cup your cheek.

“Hey,” he says softly, wiping a tear that escaped. Dammit.

You sniffle, the dam inside of you breaking in the safety of the dark. Warm tears roll down your cheeks and Aemond catches each one, wiping them away. He brings his hands to cup your cheeks, angling your face upwards. You feel the warmth of his lips press against your cheeks as he begins to kiss away the tears that won’t stop coming. It’s gentle, it’s sweet…… it's loving.

“I don’t want to go,” you whisper, and Aemond pulls you into an embrace.

Aemond is silent for a moment, you can hear the steady drumming of his heart with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair, holding you close.

“I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

You stay like that for the rest of the night, not moving from each other’s embrace.

You’re surprised to see the crowd that’s formed for the King’s Landing Regatta. Hundreds of people fill the stands. All of the boats are lined out in the harbor, waiting for the race to begin. You can spot Seasmoke out in the distance, Jace and Luke already on board.

“Shit,” Rhaena says, as you’ve just found your seats. Aemond stands beside you, looking out over the crowd. Aegon waves from the distance, nudging Helaena beside him.

“What?” you ask, watching Rhaena.

“Luke just called,” she tells you. She frowns at her phone.

“Hey!” Baela says, joining with Sara at her side, “Cregan’s grabbing popcorn.”

“Grab me a churro will you?” Rhaena asks, and you nod as she dashes off to call Luke.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell your friends, and Aemond nods, “You want anything?”

“I’m good,” he tells you, squeezing your hand before you take off into the crowd.

The concession stands are easy enough to find, you bump into Floris on the way. She quickly fills you in on some recent drama between Ellyn and Eddie Karstark before heading to her seat. You grab Rhaena’s churro and begin to head back to your friends as it's announced that the race will begin soon.

You hear your name called and turn, meeting the brown eyes of Will Tyrell. He’s clad in boat shoes, an airy blue shirt, and shorts, walking toward you. A golden rose pin rests right over his heart; you’d seen others wearing them in support of him as well.

“Hey Will,” you greet him, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Yeah, I am. Got a dingy ready to take me out,” he assures, “I just saw you and wanted to say something before the race.”

“Okay…”

“I’m so sorry, for Hugh and all that bullshit,” he says, an apologetic look on his face, “Seriously, that was not okay for him to do. Or say. Any of it. And I’m just sorry that whole thing happened.”

You smile slightly, “I appreciate that Will.”

“I hope you won’t leave here thinking I’m an asshole,” he says, laughing slightly. You can tell he’s actually nervous; that he truly hopes you don’t think he’s a jerk.

“I wouldn’t think that,” you tell him earnestly. Will himself has been nothing but lovely and understanding the whole summer, “We had fun together.”

“I agree,” he says, “Maybe I’ll see you around next summer?”

“Yeah,” you begin, “I’m…I mean anything is possible.”

“You and Aemond seem really good,” he tells you, “You’re good together.”

“Thanks,” you tell him, ignoring the pain in your chest, “Are you feeling confident about today?”

“Oh yeah,” he says, nodding and pursing his lips, “We got it in the bag.”

“I don’t know,” you tease, “Luke’s been working his ass off.”

“Still betting against me?”

“Always,” you joke, “But, I mean, good luck I guess.”

“You honor me,” he says, placing a hand on his chest, “I’ve got to run. But if I don’t see you again before you leave, have a great semester. Senior year, right?”

The end of an era.

“Yup.”

“Me too,” he says sighing, “Flew by.”

“Sure did,” you agree.

“Bigger things ahead,” he says, squeezing your shoulder, “Good to see you.”

“You too, Will,” you say, “Have a great semester.”

You watch him leave, before heading back to your seats in the stands. You spot Aemond, taller than those around him. He meets your eyes, smiling slightly. You return his smile, thinking of Will’s words. You’re good together.

“You okay?” Aemond asks, wrapping his arm around your waist as you return.

“Yeah,” you assure him, “I’m good.”

“He’s ready,” Rhaena says, joining you in the stands. You hand her the churro which she accepts gratefully. “You’re the best. Seriously. I need to take you to school with me.”

“Um no,” Baela argues, “She’s my emotional support best friend, not yours.”

“We’re twins,” Rhaena argues, “We can share.”

“We’ve got to get you on a rotating schedule,” Helaena chimes in from the bleachers behind you.

“Exactly, that makes the most sense,” Sara agrees.

“If you visit me, you can be my DD,” Aegon tells you, “Tell everyone how I nobly defended you. And be my partner in pong. You’ve got a wicked curveball.”

“How does one have a curve ball in beer pong?” Sara asks, smirking slightly. Aegon begins to explain as you glance at Aemond.

He’s got a stoic expression on his face, as though he’s thinking about something. You can see his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheeks, and his shoulders are tense. Just then, the air horn blasts through the crowd, and everyone erupts into cheers as the race begins.

You watch the boats begin to move, cutting through the water like knives. It’s hard to tell who’s in the lead; they’re all so close and moving like an armada toward the buoy. Everyone is screaming and cheering, you included. Your heart pounds against your chest, and blood rushes in your ears at the adrenaline of the crowd.

He’s doing it, he’s doing good. You can see Seasmoke creeping up between two other sailboats. Luke and Jace are in the lead with a few other boats; a very strong start. If he keeps this up, he can pull through to first place. You know he can. He’s been working so hard, you’ve all worked so hard. It’s all led up to this moment.

“161.25 kilometers,” Aemond says suddenly, as Luke veers Seasmoke around the buoy. The first lap is done, he just has to make it back and he’s done it.

Your frown, glancing at him sideways. The crowd roars around you, Helaena’s excited screaming nearly drowning out Aemond’s voice. Rhaena is jumping up and down, her churro long forgotten. You can even see Floris out of the corner of your eye, standing next to her sisters clapping.

“What?” you ask, “Is that how far---”

“161.25 kilometers,” Aemond says again, turning to face you, “That’s how far it is from Honeyholt to Citadel University.”

You stop clapping, looking up at him. It appears he couldn’t wait until after the regatta to talk. It’s all happening right now.

“Yeah,” you answer, taking a deep breath, “I know it's far--”

“That’s 100.2 miles,” Aemond interrupts, “100.2 miles between you and me.”

“I know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you--”

“That’s nothing.”

Your heart skips a beat.

“Distance. It doesn’t mean anything…if you’re willing to try,” he says, nerves making his hands tremble until he clenches them into fists, “If you’re willing to try because you love someone.”

Your expression softens, a look of utter adoration appearing on your face. Love. He said love someone. Not someone.

You.

“I understand…if you don’t want to,” Aemond says quickly, “If this is just a summer thing--”

You quickly reach up, hand finding the back of his neck, tugging him toward your lips. You kiss him sweetly, the passion behind it sending fire licking down your spine. You pull away, opening your eyes. Aemond’s seeing eye remains closed as though he doesn’t want to break the spell, his lips still puckered; begging to be kissed some more.

An air horn blares and the crowd roars around you. Streamers and confetti fly through the air, Helaena is jumping up and down with her arms wrapped tightly around Baela. But you’re only looking at Aemond. His eye flutters open, and he gazes at you in awe.

“It’s not a summer thing,” you assure him, “It never was--” And he’s kissing you again, wrapping his arms around your waist, lifting your feet off of the ground holding you against him.

You laugh against his mouth, as he brings one hand to rest against your face, cradling your jaw. He pulls away, just momentarily, a grin breaking out across his face.

“I…um…there’s something I--”

“I’m falling in love with you too,” you tell him, “I am, I am falling in love with you. I am in love with you.”

Aemond just stares, looking at you in wonder as though he’s not sure you’re real.

“I’m so in love with you,” he admits, and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“You are?”

“I am,” he tells you, stroking your face.

“He won! He won!” Sara screams, and Aegon grabs her by the waist, spinning her around in a hug.

“He fucking did it!” Baela yells, “Go, Luke, go!!”

You turn back to the race, and spot Luke and Jace in the distance dancing around on Seasmoke. Your jaw drops and you turn to Aemond.

“He did it!” you tell him, “And we missed it!”

“Who cares,” Aemond says, kissing you once more.

And for once you have no snarky comeback. You couldn’t agree more.

2 Months Later

“So this is absolutely crunch time,” Baela tells you, her eyes wide, “This is the most important decision in our lives.”

You’re lying in bed across from her in your shared room in your on-campus apartment. It’s past midnight, and you've been trying to fall asleep for about an hour now.

“Baela--”

“I’m as serious as a heart attack,” she says, sitting up in bed, the glow of her laptop illuminating her face, “Do we start Halloweekend tomorrow or Friday?”

“Don’t you have a midterm Friday?”

“That is beside the point!”

You drop your phone on your chest, turning your head to her.

“This is our last Halloweekend as college students. The last Halloweekend ever,” she says dramatically, “I can wing the midterm.”

“It’s your funeral,” you tell her, “Do we even have outfits?”

“We can think on our feet,” she says, closing her laptop and hopping off her bed, “I need a snack, do you want anything?”

“I want to go to sleep,” you tell her, as your phone begins to buzz.

“Yeah right,” she says with a sneer, seeing who’s calling you, “Like you’d go to sleep without your nightly bedtime ritual.”

“Shut up,” you tell her, cheeks heating up, and a silly grin appearing on your face.

“I love you, no I love you more, no I love youuuu more,” Baela mimics, leaving the room making kissing noises.

“We don’t sound like that!” you insist as you answer Aemond’s call, “Hey stranger.”

“Hey angel,” he says, in a tired voice, “Sorry it's so late, I got distracted in the library and lost track of time.”

“Hmmm nerd,” you tease, “It’s okay, Baela’s been keeping me up anyway.”

“What for?”

“Costume planning. We might end up going out tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Aemond says with a chuckle.

“What have you been up to?”

“Studying mainly for this philosophy midterm. This class is extremely interesting but the material is dense. It’s taking a while to review,” he admits.

“You’re a very dedicated student, I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you assure him.

“Oh I plan to,” he admits, an air of confidence in his voice, “I just like to be best at everything I do.”

“Something I am well aware of,” you tell him, chewing on your lower lip.

He pauses, not speaking for a moment and you can practically feel him smirking through the phone. Your heart quickens its pace as he chuckles.

“I miss you,” he says softly.

“You’ll see me Friday,” you tease, but you miss him as well. It’s been working out rather smoothly so far. And you’ve made plans in advance to return to King’s Landing for winter break as well.

“Counting the hours,” Aemond says, “I’ll let you go to sleep, love, I just wanted to check in.”

“Okay,” you tell him, “Goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you,” he says, “Sleep well.”

Baela enters the room as you hang up, a bowl of popcorn in her hands. She rolls her eyes as you plug in your phone, falling back against your pillow with a satisfied sigh.

“Can we get me a partner now?” Baela says, climbing back onto her bed, “I’d like to be mushy gushy with someone too.”

“Halloweekend goal: get Baela a boo,” you tell her and she laughs in response.

“Get Baela Boo’ed,” she says snickering as she munches on some popcorn, “I love it.”

Your phone buzzes one last time with a goodnight text from Helaena. She’s a bit of an insomniac, so this is rather early for her. You smile at the message. Helaena visited a few weekends ago. You’d missed her so much since the summer, especially since she left early for RA training.

You lock your phone, placing it next to you as you prepare to go to sleep. So far, senior year is everything you’d hoped it would be. With everyone you hoped would be there. You reach for your phone once more, just to look at your lock screen one more time.

It’s a picture you’d taken after Luke won the regatta. He’s in front, holding his trophy with Jace’s help, a large grin on both of their faces. Baela and Rhaena stand behind them, Rhaena smiling brightly and Baela mid-laugh. Then there’s Aegon next to Sara, their faces squished together. And Helaena of course, with an all-knowing smirk on her face, and a stoic Cregan beside her with his arms crossed over his chest.

You and Aemond are in the center of it all; his hand around your waist as you smile into the camera. Aemond’s gaze is on you, a half smile on his face. Confetti rains all around you and the sun lights the picture in a way that traps the feeling of summer on your screen. Already you feel yourself wanting to return, the grief of summer ending still fresh in your heart.

All the people you love most, in the place you love most.

You can’t wait to see them all again.

note: THATS IT MY DEARS!! I'm so in awe of the continued love and support from you all, you all make sharing these stories so much fun and for that, I am so grateful ❤️ until our next adventure my loves!

OLS Taglist 1: @talesofoldandnew, @aemondslefteyeball, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @castellomargot, @high-on-darren-criss, @diosademuerte, @padfooteyes, @tempo-rary-fix, @amirawritespoorly, @chainsawsangel, @toodlesxcuddles, @tssf-imagines, @malfoytargaryen, @nina2697, @glame, @joliettes, @yentroucnagol

@grungegrrrl, @melsunshine, @helaenaluvr

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lilyevanstan1325 · 11 months ago

Text

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 11

“Ya don't have to, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know”

“But ya'll do it anyway, dontcha?”

I sigh deeply trying to stay calm.

The archer's strong yet delicate hands gently caress my back as I snuggle against his chest.

His steady heartbeat punctuates my breathing.

“I know.But I have to.I won't let you carry this burden alone” I murmur against the damp fabric of his shirt.

It stopped raining a few hours ago and now, hugging each other inside Daryl's tent, we are waiting for the fateful moment.

According to Rick we need to get rid of our problem as soon as possible.

Finally the decision was made.

Randall will be executed tonight.

And as much as I know it's the safest choice for us, there's still that little voice in my head that wonders if we're really doing the right thing.

“I can hear yer thoughts from here, sunshine” Daryl whispers, pulling away just enough to look me in the eyes.

The darkness around us is interrupted only by the dim yellow light of an old lantern lying in a corner of the tent.

His hands move from my back, in a delicate caress that slides along my arms and then finds their place on my face.

His blue eyes carefully study my face in search of any sign that could show my real nervousness so he can immediately use that pretext to convince me not to go.

And even though I would like to stay in this tent far from what awaits me, I know I can't.

Him, Rick and, why not, Shane too already carry a big load on their shoulders and with my presence I just want to lighten their souls.

Make them understand that they are not alone, that they can count on my support.

I shake my head weakly, bringing my lips closer to his in search of another kiss.

The umpteenth.

I absentmindedly wonder if he'll being sick of it.

But his mouth, as hungry as mine, quickly cancels out this thought of mine.

My hands caress the man's muscular biceps, my fingers travel undisturbed following the contours of the veins.

Daryl sighs resting his forehead against mine.

“It's just…” I whisper against his lips, “I know we have to keep our people safe, that's it our duty...it's just stressful.That's all”

The archer shakes his head in response.

“Ma’ duty is to keep ya safe.Not just from the walkers but from these things too”

The sweetness of his confession makes the corners of my lips lift up.

I bring my hands into his hair, pushing it back, pushing the messy wild locks away from his face to get a better view of the magnificence in front of my eyes.

“You can't protect me from everything, big boy.You know it?I am a strong and grown up girl.I can take care of myself”

He chuckles, with that half smile capable of making me melt.

That half smile that every single time awakens a pleasant sensation in my lower body.

That half smile that make my pants go on fire.

“Oh, I know” he whispers, grabbing my hips and scooping me so I can find myself straddling his lap.

Our chests touch.

I can feel every curve of his body molding against mine.

“Ya’re my strong and brave girl but tha’ doesn't mean I don't wan’ to protect ya anyway”

I pinch my lower lip between my teeth to try to stop the satisfied smile that threatens to spread across my face.

Again that pleasant sensation in the middle of my thighs, the same place that is currently rubbing sensually against the crotch of his jeans.

Trying to distract my mind from those thoughts, I bring my attention back to his words.

“So…I'm your girl, now?” I tease him by digging my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck.

His.

Oh, I know so many ways I could really be his…

Ways that involve a lot of things and no clothes on.

I gently rock my hips trying to find some relief to ease the pleasant sensation I feel teasing the point where our bodies meet.

A flash of lust seems to cross the man's blue irises while his digit forcefully digs themselves on the skin of my hips.

I already feel that will leave its mark, but it's something I'm not complaining about.

I would gladly and proudly carry those marks on my body every single day of my life.

His lips crash against mine, his tongue raids my mouth, tearing the air from my lungs.

His velvety muscle explores every crevice of my mouth with ferocity, with such lust that it makes me dizzy.

His hands travel up my back, insinuating themselves under my shirt, making me let out a pathetic moan.

The man swallows it happily as his teeth grab the flesh of my lower lip, pulling it slightly.

Slowly with a wet obscene sound he loosens his teeth's grip leaving my lips swollen and plump but without stopping.

His lips immediately find my chin continuing their descent along my neck leaving a wet trail in their path.

It's amazing how this man can reduce me to a panting mess with just one kiss.

“Why?Dontcha want to be mine?” he whispers against the sensitive skin of the juncture between the neck and collarbone, “Would ya like someone else?Maybe Shane?”

His mouth doesn't stop, slowly moving up until it stops in that small portion of skin behind my ear and then lightly scratches my lobe with his teeth.

This time I can't stop the smirk that presses against my lips.

“Are you jealous, big boy?”

Daryl snorts as his lips resume their journey across my skin.

“Wan’ me to ask ya?Like with some official bullshit?”

I shake my head no at his question, trembling under the sweet torture of his lips which finally stop their race at the corner of mine.

“Ya mine?”

Unable to find my voice I just nod.

“Words, sunshine”

His words are followed by his fingers gripping my hips tightly.

His lips still at the corner of mine.

It's a sweet torture.

“I'm yours”

How could I not be his as his mouth tastes everything it can reach.

How could I not be his as his fingers dig furrows into my skin, burning in their wake like molten lava.

Every inch of my body belongs to him.

Every single piece of my soul belongs to him.

“Good” the man murmurs with his lips pressed against mine, “Good.’Cause I hate sharing”

Another sweet bite on my upper lip and then his tongue takes possession of my mouth again but this time with more sweetness, more calmly, as if he wanted to enjoy every moment to the fullest, aware that maybe we won't have any more moments so only for us.

When the archer's mouth moves away from mine I find myself panting heavily.

All hot and bothered.

Shit!

I smile like an idiot as I look at his beautiful face.

With the tip of my finger I trace the line of his nose and then slowly go down and caress the mole above his lips.

My hand moves slowly, as if dancing to the rhythm of an ancient melody.

The soft and irregular beard under my fingers is an invitation to tenderness.

His face is a mosaic of lived stories, tears and pain.

His blue eyes, deep like the stormy sea, capture me and drag me into a vortex of emotions.

Around his eyes his skin is furrowed by a few small wrinkles, now more relaxed than when he is out in the world, with that frown that often makes him appear older than he really is.

Running my fingers around them I can feel every little roughness, every sign of time, and yet I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

Moving down, I trace the outline of his lips with the tip of my finger, tracing a path of love that has gone through storms.

The man closes his eyes, as if he wanted to imprint every detail in his memory.

His breathing is calm and regular but I know that beneath this apparent calm there are oceans of feelings hidden.

His cheeks are warm under my touch.

Suddenly a realization hits me.

I never asked him how old he is.

No that this would make any difference after all.

I'm just curious.

“Daryl?” I ask in a whisper, afraid of interrupting the magic that surrounds us.

“Wha’?” he breathes towards my lips without opening his eyes.

“I was wondering...how old are you?”

I immediately regretting it when I feel him stiffen under my touch.

I remain silent, holding my breath for fear of saying something wrong.

After a few moments the man's shoulders relax imperceptibly, reopening his eyes and gracing me again with their splendor.

“Does it matter?”

“No” I reply with conviction and without giving him time to dwell on it too much I grab his face in my hands kissing him again.

This time I'm in charge and I try to dominate.

Daryl lets me take control.

With my tongue I trace the boundaries of his lips silently asking for permission.

I would never do anything to make him feel uncomfortable.

And so, erasing all my fears, he opens his lips allowing me to feast on his mouth.

Pressing my knees against the hard ground I push myself further against his body, I press myself with so much force against him that it is difficult to understand where I begin and where he ends.

A tangle of limbs, tongues and souls.

Something sublime that goes beyond mere physical pleasure.

It is a communion of souls, of kindred spirits.

The famous two halves of the same apple.

Timidly my hands descend along his broad and rocky chest until they find the hem of his shirt, a border that I overcome putting my hands under it.

The skin of his abdomen is like velvet covering the steel that is his muscles.

From the defined abdomen I move up towards his pectorals where I find defined muscles that welcome me flicking under my touch.

Daryl moans into my mouth as one of his hands grips the back of my neck forcefully while the other hand rests on the crown of my head, grabbing a fistfuls of hair between his fingers, pulling it forcefully.

I moan back.

With our lips locked together we swallow each other's moans, welcoming them as a thirsty person would welcome a sip of fresh water.

We part ways only when the need for oxygen becomes more burning than our passion.

Daryl brushes the tip of my nose with his and then his forehead rests on mine.

In a gesture that now comes naturally to him.

Almost domestic.

“’M old” he whispers, taking me by surprise.

I move away looking for his eyes who promptly denies me.

“Daryl” I call him softly, a note of pleading envelops the syllables of his name and his eyes shyly return to mine, revealing to me a labyrinth of doubts, an intricate path in which every step is uncertain and every crossroads hides a choice difficult for him.

“You're not old.How old do you think I am?” I giggle, kissing the tip of his nose.

Daryl shrugs.

“Dunno.Maybe, twenty?”

I wrinkle my nose smiling.

“Twenty-four.Almost twenty-five.I don't think you're much older than me.And if you don't want to tell me, I don't care.It wouldn't change anything for me.I don't care how old you are, big boy”

I stroke his hair again trying to convey the truth into my words and gestures.

I don't care about his age.

It's enough for me that he's here, with me.

And that he considers me his.

That's all I want.

His eyes carefully examine my expression looking for some hidden lie and I let him do it because I'm sure he won't find any.

He brings his lips closer again, slowly rubbing them against mine, letting me get drunk on the essence of his breath which delicately breaks on my face.

“Thirty-nine”

His words are so whispered that if there had been a stronger gust of wind at that moment they would have flown away and I would have lost them.

His eyes don't leave mine probing my reaction to his revelation.

Maintaining my composure I wink in his direction earning a raise of his left eyebrow in response.

“Wha’?” he asks.

My smile widens into a grin.

“I like old men.I think it's because of my daddy's issues.This would make sense…I don't know” I blather, gesturing frantically with my hands in front of his face.

The archer looks at me with confusion written all over his face.

“Sunshine, ya know tha’ I didn't understand anything of wha’ ya said, ya know tha’, righ’?”

I laugh, throwing my head back and placing my fingers behind his neck.

“You're lucky you're cute, my big boy”

“’M yours?”

He promptly replies to my statement, his sly eyes hide an infinite sweetness.

I bite my bottom lip between my teeth as I squint at him from under my lashes.

“Don't you like the idea?” I whisper languidly with my lips brushing his earlobe.

Without waiting for his response I grab it between my teeth and then suck it.

And the sound Daryl gives me makes every inch of my body crawl.

It is a sound between a moan and a whine.

But before I have the chance to delve deeper into this sweet sound, the sound of footsteps resonates loudly and decisively on the grass outside the tent.

Immediately every excitement dies bringing me to the harsh reality.

Time has come.

I lift myself from Daryl's lap, my knees creaking in protest at the prolonged position they've assumed.

I leave the tent without saying a word while Daryl follows me closely, positioning himself at my side with his arms crossed over his chest waiting for the two men to reach us.

When Shane and Rick pass us, Rick nods towards the barn.

Sighing deeply, I walk behind the two friends but a steel grip around my wrist prevents me from doing so.

“Ya sure?”

The archer asks for the umpteenth time.

And I nod for the umpteenth time.

But despite this, the grip around my wrist does not loosen, on the contrary, it tightens as the man forcefully pulls me against his chest.

I cast a quick glance towards the barn where Rick and Shane are about to cross the threshold.

I look back at Daryl as his face gently drops towards mine.

Just a breath from my lips he whispers three simple words.

Three simple words that have the power to make me go weak in the knees.

“’M yours too”

I smile again and standing on my tiptoe I kiss him for the umpteenth time.

It is a moment suspended in time, an instant in which everything else fades away.

I wish I could stop the world, stay here forever wrapped in his warm embrace.

Words are superfluous, because our souls are already communicating through this delicate contact.

Right here, between the folds of his beard and the deep gaze of his blue eyes, I know I have finally found my home.

In the silent cold of the barn Daryl grabs Randall by the arm, yanking him to stay upright.

The boy whimpers begging us to let him go, not to kill him.

The dim moonlight illuminates his pale face and frightened eyes.

Each of his tears reduces my heart to a mass of nothingness.

Seeing this poor young boy cry and beg for his life destabilizes me more than I thought it would.

I feel my knees wobble, my breath catching in my throat as I try to tame the shaking of my hands.

I hug my mid section trying not to shatter in front of my friends.

Rick slowly joins Daryl while the trembling boy kneels on the ground after the calm but peremptory order from the former officer.

I am aware that I myself agreed to be here but now, as Rick loads the gun, I feel the anguish and horror suffocating me.

I know this is necessary for us, for our safety, but my mind and my heart are in conflict.

Randall's eyes beg for mercy.

He is just a boy, with a life, with stories and perhaps many regrets.

I close my eyes trying to block the image.

But I can't.

Horror and sadness surround me like a suffocating cloak.

The weight of this choice will remain with me forever.

Shane at my side nudges my arm gently with his elbow.

Grateful for this distraction I turn my gaze full of desperation towards his face.

“You can go” he whispers so that only I can hear him.

I shake my head no, thanking him with my eyes for the humanity he is showing me.

He nods once, leaving my side to reach Randall and blindfold him, trying to silence him with the same delicate note of voice that he had addressed to me a few moments ago.

As absurd as it may seem, even Shane finds himself feeling a minimum of pity for this poor boy whose only fault is having found himself with the wrong people at the wrong time.

Daryl moves nervously but his gaze shows no sign of weakness, no second thoughts, but the moment his gaze meets mine something cracks him.

Something that makes him come closer to me and wrap his arm around my shoulders.

His large, warm hand rests on the crown of my head, guiding it to his shoulder.

His lips caress my hair, I don't know if in an attempt to console me or to ease the turmoil inside his heart.

Peering over at Rick I see him nod briefly at Shane and then bring his gaze to Daryl and me.

In his tired eyes there is all the pain a man can feel.

Because one thing is kill to defend yourself and another thing is to execute someone for your own gain.

I would never want to be in his shoes now but I certainly won't leave him alone in this fucking shit.

So, as a lone tear rolls down my face, I nod in response.

Rick returns his gaze to the boy kneeling in front of him.

“Do you have any final words?” he asks, triggering an uncontrollable cry in the boy who, trembling like a leaf shaken by the wind, whispers only a weak please don't, immediately suffocated by whines of pure terror.

My heart beats so violently that it echoes in my ears.

The gun is ready, cold and inexorably pointed towards the boy's forehead.

The sound of the bullet being loaded into the barrel of the gun makes me jump, Daryl tightening his grip around my shoulders.

“Do It, dad.Do it”

Carl's voice tears us out of our bubble.

Rick gasps, immediately shifting his gaze to his son standing on the threshold of the door.

Shane immediately abandons his position to reach Carl, scolding him harshly and grabbing his arm he drags him out.

Rick seems torn by his own feelings and his stormy gaze returns to rest on us.

Then he lowers the gun and turns to Daryl whispering “Tie him”

The archer does as he is ordered and this triggers a nervous reaction from Shane who, slamming his hand against the barn door, turns on his heel and disappears into the dark of the night.

I slowly approach Rick, placing my hand delicately on his forearm.

“It's ok, Rick.It's ok”

Our eyes meet again.

I try to smile at him even though I'm sure that more than a smile what came out was a sympathetic and pained look.

“Your son needs you.Go” I encourage him.

Rick nods and walks away taking Carl with him, Daryl and I follow them in silence, reaching the others gathered around the fire.

“We’re keeping him in custody, for now” begins Rick.

I look around at the tense faces of my friends.

“Where's Dale?” I ask, addressing no one in particular.

“Him and Amy are walking around checking the perimeter.I'm going to look for them and tell them the news” Andrea replies, offering me a shy smile.

I nod without saying anything else.

Carol watches me from afar.

A shaky sigh slips from my lips, immediately catching Daryl's attention.

“Wha’?” he asks me, coming closer and looking for my gaze.

“I need to talk to Carol.Apologize to her, you understand?”

He nods reassuringly and leaving a delicate kiss on my forehead encourages me to go to our friend.

With an uncertain step I reach her and sit next to her on the cold ground.

The fire crackles happily in front of our eyes.

I made an unforgivable mistake by hurting with sharp and senseless words the only person who doesn't deserve it.

“I thought a lot about the words I said to you” I whisper with a lump in my throat, “I don't know what happened to me.I was angry.I'm ashamed of myself.I'm really sorry.I swear that I will do anything to make it up to you, anything to make you understand that I am truly sorry for the horrible words I said to you”

My river of hasty apologies is interrupted by my friend's hand which delicately rests on my hands clasped in my lap.

“You have nothing to make up for, Summer”

I shake my head as if to dismiss her words.

It's not true.

With my behavior I hurt everyone, especially her.

The one person who didn't deserve it.

I didn't care about her pain, I was selfish.

Yet Carol is here, next to me.

She is ready to forgive me.

The tears begin to flow timidly as I rest my head against her shoulder, searching for that consolation that was offered to me and which I denied.

Not wanting it, not feeling adequate to receive it.

But everything changes quickly.

A scream pierces the silence.

A desperate scream, full of terror.

Then a shot.

More screams.

I jump up, my heart in my throat and my heartbeat racing madly in my ears.

Without even seeking the gaze of the others I launch myself into a desperate run using the screams carried by the wind as if they were a compass, orienting myself in the dark night.

My legs burn as my breath rasps my dry throat, but the adrenaline keeps me going.

Behind me I can hear more heavy footsteps.

His unmistakable breathing.

Daryl.

Reaching the edge of the woods, what I find in front of me freezes my blood in my veins.

Amy is struggling with all her might to keep a walker away from her face.

The girl lies on the ground, her limbs moving frantically as she screams and tries to defend herself.

Daryl passes me, lunging towards the girl.

Recovering from my moment of confusion I continue my run but my feet trip on something sending me to the ground.

I try to cushion the fall by putting my hands forward but the impact is equally violent, capable of tearing the air from my lungs with a hiss.

Trying to stay clear, I immediately get back on my feet, grabbing my knife from its holster and slowly walking towards the point where my feet lost their grip on the ground.

It could be another walker but to my surprise it's Dale.

The man lies supine on the ground.

Putting the knife back in its place, I kneel down, placing a hand on the man's neck, searching with my trembling fingers for his pulse.

And thank goodness I find it but my fingers get damp.

Behind me, Amy's agonized scream pierces the night and Daryl begins to scream for help, urging the others to reach them.

My heart tells me to go to him but I can't leave Dale, not before making sure he's okay.

I gently run a hand behind his neck, where a thick liquid flows between my fingers.

“Dale?C'mon man”

I shake him delicately and after a few moments his eyelids flicker, opening and revealing a haunted look.

“Amy…Amy…”

The man whispers agitatedly, coughing.

With effort I help him sit down again.

His eyes travel from one side of the field to the other as if he expects to be attacked at any moment.

“Dale.Dale it's over.Stay calm” I reassure him but my words are drowned out by Andrea's scream.

A scream full of pain and desperation.

And I understand.

Amy.

We're late.

Dale forcefully avoids my hand and staggers dangerously when he reaches the others.

I followed him, already knowing what I would find.

Lying on the cold, bare ground, Amy gurgles meaningless words while her insides glisten with thick dark blood from her totally torn abdomen.

Rick yells to go get Hersel.

But even if the old doctor tried hard there would be nothing that could be done.

The sweet Amy is slowly dying in front of our eyes.

Her sister kneels next to her, crying desperately while her fingers move delicately through her hair, whispering sweet words of love and comfort.

Don't give up.

Hold on.

I'll not leave you.

Many small and painful goodbyes whispered by the trembling and desperate lips of the woman.

Daryl stands still with his knees sunk into the cold ground, his eyes full of pain and guilt.

Yet another victim that he failed to save.

Yet another family member that this world is taking away from him.

Hersel comes running in followed by Maggie and Glenn.

And the moment the vet's eyes stop on the girl on the ground it is clear as day that there is nothing left to do.

A sob shakes my chest.

We have lost another person.

The acrid smell of death fills my nostrils.

In this new world ruled by walkers I tried to close my heart.

I have seen many, too many, people die and yet every time a face fades away, the pain hits me like a punch in the stomach.

Amy's blood flows, staining the ground below, glistening macabrely under the silvery moonlight.

Cries and sobs pass through my ears.

Rick's scream of rage fills my spine with shivers.

Letting my arms fall lifeless to my sides I notice all the people surrounding me and with a trembling step I approach Amy, stopping right behind Andrea.

Shane next to me offers me a look full of anger and pain and in a completely spontaneous gesture I tighten my fingers around his strong upper arm, demonstrating my closeness to him in this terrible moment that has shaken everyone's hearts.

The roars of her pain hurt.

Amy is in pain.

Poor little girl.

The painful moans and whines that roll from her lips are a stab to my heart.

Every gasp, every gurgle, every whine only increases the anger.

The frustration.

The impotence.

“She's suffering.Do something” Carol whispers through her tears, begging anyone to put an end to this havoc.

Shane next to me moves, pulling out his gun and when the sharp noise of the bullet loaded into the barrel resonates in the air Andrea raises her head abruptly, interposing her body between her sister and the man's gun.

“Andrea” the man murmurs, “She's in pain.We must give her a dignified death”

Andrea, with a look full of anger, gets up and with an unexpected move grabs the man's gun, ripping it from his grip.

Shane takes a step in her direction but I quickly stop him by wrapping my fingers around his wrist.

His eyes move quickly between my grip and my face.

I shake my head no slowly.

Shane seems to think about it by taking a step back and letting Andrea decide what is best to do.

It's right that she makes the choice.

“She's my little sister.I'll take care of her”

The woman's words are decisive.

No tremor in her voice.

The resolve in her eyes is icy as she turns to her adored and beloved sister.

With a firm hand she raises the gun pointing it towards Amy's forehead who is now breathing heavily while with an imperceptible nod of her head she makes it clear that she's okay with it.

“I love you, Amy” whispers Andrea.

The words wrapped in infinite love hover lightly in the air, dispersing among the stars.

I squeeze my eyes shut, holding my hands to my ears, but this isn't enough to cut out the reverberation of the shot that makes the depths of my soul vibrate.

We find ourselves in a distorted world, where life and death are intertwined in a dark embrace.

Despite the eyelids closed, behind them the scene repeats itself in an infinite loop.

Amy.

A young woman, once alive and vibrant, brutally devoured by one of those rotten, disgusting beings.

Beings who in turn were human beings with a life, with dreams.

Her poor body torn from her, her insides exposed, her scared look slowly fading away.

I feel paralyzed with horror.

My heart beats wildly in my chest, as if it wants to break through my rib cage to escape this ominous reality.

Anger envelops me, making me tremble, my hands closed in two trembling fists, an impotent rage against the injustice of it all.

Why?

Why Amy?

Why the walkers?

Why has life become so cruel?

The pain clouds my mind.

The pain for the young woman, for Andrea, for everything that was torn away in an instant.

The pain for the fragility of human life, for its ephemeral beauty.

Anger at a plague so devastating that it erases everything.

I just want to scream but my voice is lost in the depths of my dark mind.

Defeat envelops me, its claws planted ferociously in my heart.

I have seen death in the face, I know there is no escape.

No matter how bravely I fight, how much I cling to hope, death will prevail in the end.

I feel helpless, useless, like a leaf blown away by the wind.

Like someone at the mercy of a greater force.

Indestructible, unstoppable.

Only emptiness and darkness remain.

An arm wraps around my shoulders while another sneaks around the bend of my knees and a moment later someone is carrying me away in his arms.

I don't have the strength to open my eyes again but the intense smell of woods and leather under my cheek makes me understand who he is.

And this only triggers a crying fit.

Big, fat sobs shake my chest as Daryl's soft voice whispers words of comfort that vibrate through his cozy chest.

My hands grip his vest tightly.

“Ya'll be fine, my sunshine.Ya'll be fine”

And for the first time I find myself doubting the man's words.

For the first time my heart doesn't believe in Daryl Dixon.

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