Aerion lounged in the loveseat, body sprawled across it as he listened to the birds of Lys chirping outside the window. Aerion's fingers tapped against the fabric of the loveseat.

Aerion's gaze slowly drifted toward you, his favorite paramour, as you moved around the loveseat to pour him wine. Aerion's hand shot out, gently yet firmly grasping your wrist.

"Care to ride a dragon, Gevie?" (Translation: Beautiful.)

Aerion's lips held a smirk as he watched your reaction to his inneundo, his hand tugging you closer.