C U R I O S I T Y | Aemond Targaryen

S I X T Y - S E V E N

Cordelia's P.O.V.

"Hey, baby... Um. I hope you're doing alright. And you're safe wherever you are. And happy."

I replayed the message over and over, as if I could somehow decode a hidden meaning in his words. Aemond's voice sounded depleted, the tone of a broken man, and it devastated me. I haven't stopped thinking about it and it's been days since I first heard it. 

"It's... It's been a tough week here, I can't lie." 

Each time his voice crackled through my phone, I felt a fresh wave of anguish wash over me. Aemond was always the strong one, the unyielding pillar in the storm of our lives, and hearing him so desolate was like watching a skyscraper crumble into dust. Aemond never sounded like that, not even during our worst fights. 

"The dogs miss you... We all miss you, but I didn't call to tell you that."

His voice always held an edge, a confidence that bordered on arrogance, but not this time. Hearing him like this, so vulnerable, shattered something inside me. My chest felt tight every time I listened to the message, like an iron fist was squeezing my heart. My thumb hovered over the call button many times since hearing his message, the temptation to reach out almost overwhelming. But I couldn't. Not yet.

"I called because I know what I want now, but it will only mean something to me if you're here to see it."

Memories of our time together flooded my mind, each one a double-edged sword, cutting deep with their sweetness. The late-night talks, the whispered promises, the way he looked at me like I was his entire world. Aemond's face flashes in my mind, his piercing violet gaze that could see right through me, his lips that once whispered sweet nothings into my ear, now a source of my torment.

"Nothing will feel complete if I can't share it with you... And it hurts, because it's my fault you're not here."

Deep down, a part of me longed to call him back, to hear his voice and not just through a recording. But pride kept me from picking up the phone. Pride and the fear of opening old wounds that had barely started to heal. When I decided not to answer his voicemail or return his call, I wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he was still as miserable as he sounded in the message. 

Did he regret leaving that message as much as I regretted not answering it?

"I'm... I'm sorry, Cordelia. For everything. I love you, baby."

The familiarity of affection in his voice, the way he said "baby" like it was a prayer, nearly drew me in to cave for him. Like it did every time. Though I stopped myself, reminded myself of every way he failed me, and warned myself how it was only a matter of time until he did it again. Anxiously tapping my pen, I count down the minutes until this class is over and I can finally leave campus.

It's been a few days since class started back up again, and finals are next week, but the semester is over after that. I already enrolled myself for next semester and secured a spot for all my required classes, so now all I need to do is get through finals. Luckily, that's the one part of my life that I'm not overwhelmed or worried about, the only thing I'm able to control at the moment.

The second I catch students packing their things, I realize our professor just dismissed us, and glance at the clock on the wall. I've been in my thoughts for the last ten minutes, but usually at the end of this class, our professor goes over everything he just shared, so I missed nothing special. Students are already flooding out of the classroom while I pack up my notes and books, but I halt for a second when I see a text message from Juliette.