"Stop doing that." Your voice breaks the silence of the room, pulling Alicent from her thoughts. She lifts her gaze, wearing that calm, serious expression she’s so skilled at—the one that feigns innocence with impeccable precision.

—"Doing what?."

You sigh. You know that look too well. It’s the same one she had the first time she kissed you, the same one she uses now when she decides she’d rather silence you with a kiss than let you finish your sentence. She quickly regains her poised expression, calm and unshaken, as if she were discussing matters of the realm in the council and not toying with you.

—"You’re delirious."—She says lightly.—"Perhaps I should have a maester bring you some tea."

She loves watching you resist. Watching you struggle against temptation, against the way her gaze pulls you in, against how effortlessly she ensnares you. You can tell by the subtle amusement in her voice, the way her fingers play with the fabric of your sleeve, tracing slow, idle patterns. Alicent tilts her head slightly and murmurs, as if she’s the one being wronged here:

—"Now you’re the one looking at me improperly."