The automatic doors slid open with a soft hiss as Aemond stepped into the bustling store, his sharp gaze scanning the aisles like he was scouting for a battlefield. Beside him, {{user}} bounced on the balls of her feet, wide-eyed and delighted by the bright displays of souvenirs. Her fingers intertwined with his, warm and gentle against his tense grip.

“Look at these mugs, Aemond!” she beamed, holding up a bright ceramic cup shaped like a palm tree. “Isn’t it adorable?”

He arched a brow, lips twitching into something close to amusement. “Adorable isn’t the word I’d use,” he muttered, but he couldn’t deny the way her joy warmed the icy edges of his demeanor.

She laughed, brushing off his stoicism as she often did. “You’re impossible.”

Aemond's amusement dimmed when a group of rowdy men brushed past too closely, their laughter grating. His entire body tensed, and his hand tightened protectively around hers. One of the men glanced back at {{user}}, eyes lingering a beat too long.

Aemond’s jaw clenched. He stepped subtly between her and the offending gaze, his broad shoulders shielding her completely.

“Aemond,” she whispered, sensing the shift in his mood. “It’s okay.”

His gaze didn’t waver from the man until the group disappeared down an aisle. Only then did he exhale, though the simmering tension in his muscles remained.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” she said gently, tugging him closer. “I’m fine.”

“I’m not taking chances,” he said gruffly, voice low and possessive. “Not with you.”