The cloaked girl in white ● After The Dance

Chapter fourty-eight

CHAPTER FOURTYEIGHT

So she does. She grips the wrist of the arm he is choking her with, pulling it to signal him to let go. He is clearly a bit taken back by her trying to end their moment, but if she is not ready, he will not force her.

He let's go completely, stepping away from her body, raising his hands as if defending himself. She just glares at him when she turns around, lowering herself and her head into the water. He can't seem to be able to take his eyes off of her.

"Did you just cut me off?" He steps forward, grabbing her hips, pulling her towards him. Their faces inches apart, and she keeps eye contact as she pulls herself out of his grip, raising a brow and cutting their stare in favor of doing what they actually came her to do.

"Do you find some sort of pleasure in torturing me?" She can't believe that he is nagging like a little child. Grabbing the soap for her hair, he starts on that to make sure that it is done for when she actually plans on letting him win. But he is right. She finds it horribly amusing to see the expression he has on his face when he is that thirsty.

"Can I at least help you with your hair?" He offers as he moves himself through the water and over towards her. "If you keep your attention to the hair, then sure." She agrees.

He doesn't want to do that, but if they mean he can keep touching her a little while longer, then he will take what he can get.

"I can't promise anything." He just chuckles as he digs his fingers into the wild, curly soapy mess, letting his nails dig into the scalp to wash her hair. She tilts her head back, enjoying every second of it.

When he is done scrubbing her head, he moves down to the length of the hair.

"There you go." She turns around to rinse it out and sees him start on his own washing. When she has rinsed, she moves her body over to the steps of the pool and sits down on one of them, observing him doing his thing.

"Were you not going to ask me if it was alright for you to take my dragon?" He is scrubbing his hair as he asks, looking over at her while doing so.

"If dragons could talk, and I asked Sunfyre who he liked the most between me and you. What do you think his answer would be?" Vis collects her hair in her hands and squeezes the water out of it.

"I imagine that my dragons feelings is an extension of mine, so the answer would probably be you." He shrugs, smiling slightly over how silly their conversation has turned. He quickly pulls himself under the water to rinse the soap out of his hair.
When he resurfaces, she is still talking.

"You know he acts like a dog when he greets me, right? I wouldn't say that a dragon could smile, but he looks like he is smiling. And he wiggles like a dog, too."

Aegon just chuckles as he steps towards her. "It isn't fair that you have such good connection with so many dragons."

"How many are perfectly fine with you on their back?"

She furrows her brows, now that she thinks about it, she doesn't know who out of the ones she had befriended on Dragonstone would let her ride them.

"How many have you ridden, and how many all by yourself?"

"Vermax, Sunfyre, Vhagar, then I rode Dreamfyre with Uncle Daemon, and I also had like the shortest circling around the island on Syrax a month after my coronation." Wide-eyed, he just stares at her. He didn't know she had mounted his sisters dragon as well.

He steps forward and leans down, placing his face in front of hers.

"What are you? The mother of dragons?" His tone, his face, his smirk. All cocky.