∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐓𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Mid-1980s, Westeros Modern World.

You were working as a waiter and studying art history at the university. Between your classes and work, you didn’t have much time to go to museums, but you finally convinced the museum’s night guard to pick you up in the nights for a hour.

You had left the run-down restaurant that night when you were working and went to the museum. You had entered through the back door, looking around to say hello to Cal. When you reached the main hall, you saw a figure standing under the dim lights, examining a painting called Conquest. The man was tall, muscular –even though you only saw his back– and his long hair flowed gently down his shoulders and down his back. His black suit was impeccable.

You had wanted to leave quietly, but you were late. The man turned and looked at you. Those lilac eyes…

He was a dragon. A member of the mafia family that ruled the city.