For a century, the Targaryens held sway over the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros: from the arid deserts of Dorne to the icy expanses of the North, from the verdant plains of the Reach to the rugged coasts of the Stormlands. Yet, amidst the splendor of th...
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»You enjoyed that, didn't you?« he asked with a smirk, and she couldn't help but smile at her heightened adrenaline rush. Somehow, it was all incredibly thrilling and mysterious. She was almost relishing it. She had stolen something on a whim, just because she felt like it, and no one, except perhaps the vendor, was angry with her or scolding her. It was... wonderful. She had even lost what she had stolen along the way, so excited was she.
»Oh yes, I rarely experience such freedoms,« she smiled back at him. Just a few hours ago, she wouldn't have imagined she'd ever get along with him. »What even was it that I stole?«
»I have no idea,« he chuckled softly, and she joined in before he suddenly stopped. »Wait,« he said, and she halted, curious as to what he wanted. »Turn around.« Suddenly, her pulse skyrocketed for reasons she couldn't quite explain.
»Why?« she asked, her voice heavy with anticipation, to which he only responded with a smirk. She was getting nervous again, even though he hadn't done anything. What was wrong with her?
»Your straps seem to have come loose while you were running,« he pointed out. At first, she didn't understand, until it hit her like a punch in the face. Hastily, she had tied the strings at the back of her neck to her shirt earlier, unable to reach them properly. But if they were too loose, her shirt could slip off her shoulders. She quickly attempted to retie them without his help, raising her hands behind her head, but struggled to reach.
»It's fine,« she huffed, but he ignored her and moved closer, making it even harder for her to breathe. He made her so nervous that her fingers started trembling, unable to hold the straps any longer, as he stood in front of her. She didn't recognize herself like this.
»Turn around,« he commanded, his tone more forceful than friendly. After a moment of hesitation, she lowered her arms, crossed them in front of her chest to appear calm, and turned around.
She felt him tie it with a tug, and her heart seemed to almost leap out of her chest as she nervously scratched her upper arm. She focused so hard on breathing quietly and calmly that she didn't even notice he had finished long time ago and she just stood there, unable to move. She heard him chuckle loudly before he suddenly traced his fingertips over the fabric on her back from top to bottom, lightly brushing her skin. Yet even that simple light touch was enough to send shivers down her entire body, and she dug her nails into her palms as she felt him move closer behind her. But she couldn't move, not an inch. Instead, she waited and stared at the stone ground as if she were counting each one, as if she were looking for an excuse to stay still.
That wasn't the Siveen she knew. She hadn't been herself all evening. The real Siveen would have just pushed him away, given him a piece of her mind, or even slapped him. The whole evening had been leading up to this moment, but she only understood it now. Understood only now that only she was the reason she stood there so motionless and could simply move if she wanted to, but she didn't. Siveen closed her eyes and let out a loud breath, unable to hold it in any longer, as she felt his hot breath on her neck, which then turned into him starting to caress her neck. Softly at first, but then more demanding. And she just stood there, in that lonely alley, with her eyes closed, completely motionless, seeing no chance anymore to move.
