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The television in the background is nothing more than a low hum to Rhaenyra, laid out on Daemon’s chest, her head feeling like it was full of honey. He was warm underneath her, his hands tracing soft circles on her back, under her shirt. Everything outside of them feels like a haze. Where their chests touch, she can feel the steady beat of his heart, and again where her nose brushes up against the pulse point in his neck. It would be the perfect scene if only for one thing…It’s been bothering Rhaenyra all week.
“Break up with her.”
It takes Daemon a moment to respond. “What?” he asks groggily. He was nearing the brink of sleep, she can tell. A quiet giggle leaves her as she thinks about what an old man her uncle could be.
Pushing herself up on her elbows, she says again, “Break up with her.”
The dying sunlight hits Daemon just right, illuminating him golden in the yellow orange flood of his apartment. Her eyes track the way his throat moves as he swallows. “Mysaria?” he finally asks.
She rolls her eyes. As if she would be talking about anyone other than the woman who had been taking up all of Daemon’s free time for the past few months.
“Don’t be a brat,” Daemon says, pinching her lip until it swells pink with blood. “What’s wrong with her this time?”
She could say any of the excuses that she’s said a thousand times before. She’s mean to me, uncle. She’s just using you for your money. She’s a whore. She doesn’t love you as much as she should. You deserve better. She doesn’t understand you like I do, Kepa. They always work. Daemon’s little dalliances never last long when Rhaenyra’s around.
It’s been this way since she was a kid. Anyone who took his attentions away from her was automatically on her shitlist. She’s had a hand in every single one of his breakups over the years. If it wasn’t her outright demanding that he ditch them, the closeness of their relationship would eventually scare people off. Daemon was never good at saying no to his niece. If she wanted his attention she didn’t give a fuck if he had to skip out on a date or an anniversary or midfuck with one of his girlfriends. She’d have him as she pleased.
Mysaria was his newest and longest lasting girlfriend to date. She was a smokeshow, even Rhaenyra could admit, although the woman seemed callous and aloof more than anything. She was a model, her work schedule often conflicting with Daemon’s and keeping them apart. Honestly, Rhaenyra often forgot she even existed, which was the only reason she’d allowed the relationship to go on for so long. But Mysaria had just returned to London after a long series of gigs in Japan, and she was becoming ever so demanding with Daemon’s time.
“I just don’t like her.” she says. It was an answer that had worked before, albeit mostly when she was a lot younger.
He lets out a sigh. “You barely know her. She just got back to London, maybe you could come out with us sometime and get to know her better.”
She makes no effort to hide the pout of her mouth as she responds, “Uncle, she’s horrendous. She treats me like shit, and I’m a very important aspect of your life. It’s so disrespectful. And she’s probably cheating on you anyway, so you should really just dump her.”
“Be reasonable, Rhaenyra, please,” he was smirking a bit though, the prick.
“She takes up too much of your time. Break up with her.”
They’ve played this game before. If Daemon really wants to stand his ground here, she might be pushed into doing something drastic. He catches her eye, lilac to lavender, as if weighing his options.
“It’s her or me, uncle.” Rhaenyra says softly, unbreaking eye contact. His nose flares as he lets out another angry breath.
“Fine. If you’re going to be insufferable about it.” he says in a clipped tone. Oh, he must’ve liked her, it seems.
She pulls off of him, reaching down blindly at his pants. Daemon yelps and tries to jerk out from under her, but eventually she finds what she was looking for and takes his phone out from his pocket. Shoving the phone in his hands, she says, “Call her and end it right now.”
“What the fuck crawled up your ass and died today, you little brat?”
“Mysaria’s been pissing me off ever since she got back and I want her out of your life.”
Daemon swears under his breath and she only catches a few words; spoilt, niece, the things I do , but he dials Mysaria anyway. She grins sweetly at him while the phone rings. And anyway if he thought she was spoiled maybe he shouldn’t have given into her demands so readily all her life.
" Hello ?” Mysaria picks up the phone.
“It’s me,” Daemon drawls. “Are you busy right now?” Rhaenyra picks at her nails as she waits for him to get on with it.
“ I just got back home and ordered dinner. Did you want to come over? ”
She scoffs and Daemon sends her a pointed look. “No, I can’t. I was just thinking that this isn’t working out, actually.”
There’s a deadly silence before Mysaria speaks again, in a short tone. “ What are you saying? ”
“I’m breaking up with you, My.”
“ What are you playing at, Daemon? We just made plans for this weekend and now you’re just breaking up with me out of nowhere? ”
“Yeah, well. I had some time to think about it and it’s just not going to work between us.”
Rhaenyra thought that would be it, but Mysaria keeps talking over the crackly speaker of Daemon’s phone. “I can’t believe this, Daemon, the only reason I came back to London was to make this relationship work, you know there was that job in Milan that I wanted, but I chose to come back here to—”
Oh god, the woman’s monologuing, Rhaenyra thinks, tuning her drivel out. She pulls the phone away from her uncle, holding it as she leans into him and moans loudly, “Oh, Daemon, harder !”
His eyes widen and he snaps his head to look at her. Quickly, he wrenches the phone out of her hands and hisses, “Shut up!”
“ Are you fucking someone right now ?”
“No!” he yelps. At the same time, Rhaenyra moans again.
“You fuck me so good, Daemon!”
He claps a heavy hand over her mouth, but it’s too late, his ex -girlfriend is already swearing a storm through the phone. A vitriolic rant, finishing with a violent, “ Never contact me again, asshole! ”
Rhaenyra bursts into laughter when she hangs up on him. Daemon drops his head into his hands, letting out a miserable groan, “With that performance, she’s probably going to key my fucking car.”
Rhaenyra only laughs louder, clambering back onto Daemon’s lap to pull him into an embrace.
“I don’t know what’s so amusing, niece, I’m forwarding the inevitable property damage bill to you.”
She softly kisses all over his face, peeling away his fingers so she can properly press kisses to jaw. “I like being the only woman in your life.” she murmurs against his skin, like a prayer. He shivers when her lips touch him. Knocking his forehead into hers, he steadies her on his lap with a firm grasp on her hips.
“I know,” he rasps.
She continues to kiss him, running hands through his silken hair, that hazy warm feeling flooding her where they’re touching. Daemon would get over it, he always did. And Rhaenyra was always there to comfort him after a breakup, as a good niece should. Finally, she let herself slump in his arms, limbs heavy, satisfied that her claim on her uncle remained intact.
Soon, they wouldn’t have to play this game any more. She was reaching a certain age and she had suspicions that Daemon’s reluctance to touch her and his revolving door of women would come to an end. For now, she lets herself relax, feeling syrupy in his embrace. There’s something hard poking her just between the soft of her thighs, but neither of them choose to acknowledge it, instead letting the moment settle over them.