WRONG NUMBER III - Aerion Targaryen
SUMMARY - The realisation that you two have yet to make anything official causes Aerion to take matters into his own hands.
CONTAINS - crazy pining, tension, they argue, aerion is aerion, fluff, can be read as a standalone but context always helps!! part one, part two
A/N - the amount of love ive received for this fic is unbelievableee, i love you guys. This might be the last part but if you have any questions or ideas you wanna share feel free to do so lovelies!
The following weeks had a way of blurring the lines until you couldn’t even remember where the boundaries used to be.
Aerion was completely integrated into your life. His jackets were a permanent fixture draped over the back of your kitchen chairs, and a spare phone charger that definitely wasn’t yours was always laying by the table in the living room.
You’d find yourself lying in bed late at night, your eyes burning from the glare of the screen in your dark room, staring at his face on FaceTime while he complained about a boring lecture or his annoying family.
Whenever he would come over, you two would often argue over what stupid movie to put on just for you both to ignore it.
It was wild how naturally you adapted to being with him in real life. On campus, the shift was just as obvious. It was no longer just you and Tanselle in Davis's class. Aerion would consistently leave his friends baffled as he walked past his usual row just to slide into the seat beside yours.
He’d steal your pens just to draw in the margins of your notebook, his shoulder brushing yours every time he leaned in to whisper a mocking comment about anyone that was bothering him.
He was still the same to everyone else, completely aloof and dismissive, but with you, he was different. He’d steal your drinks without asking, take a sip, and complain it was way too sweet before drinking the entire thing anyway.
When the air conditioning in the class got too cold, he’d blindly throw his jacket over your lap, his arm lingering on the back of your chair.
You grew used to the constant scent of his expensive cologne and the way the side of his thigh always pressed firmly against yours under the desk.
You talked about everything. You knew his habits and he knew yours. You knew his humour and the specific way his jaw set when he was frustrated. You were hanging out constantly, sharing every little detail of your life to one another.
Your chat history was an endless loop filled with a lot of bickering.
Aerion 🎱: where are you
YOU: At the library studying???
YOU: Like i said i would be??
Aerion 🎱: stop studying come out
Aerion 🎱: im by the fountain
YOU: Noo i have a quiz tmrw go away
Aerion 🎱: i brought your usual from the cafe
YOU: Ru srs
Aerion 🎱: im holding it right now
Aerion 🎱: you have 2 minutes before i finish it
YOU: OK CHILL
YOU: Omw dont finish it pls
But through all of it, you never actually talked about what this was. There was no label. You had just slipped into this comfortable routine without a single thought.
Until tuesday night.
You were sitting across from him at a dimly lit pasta place a few blocks away from your apartment. It was a crowded spot, the kind of place where the tables were small and forced you close together.
You were mid laugh, reaching over the table to stab a piece of chicken from his plate with your fork, while he watched you with an amused smirk.
“Hey, sorry to bother you,” a voice suddenly broke your bubble.
You blinked, your fork hovering in the air as a guy from a nearby table stepped up to your booth. He was rubbing the back of his neck, looking a little nervous, oblivious to the way Aerion’s smirk instantly vanished.
The guy looked directly at you. “I just saw you from over there and thought you were really pretty. I was wondering if I could maybe get your number?”
Your fingers froze around your fork. Your brain went blank for a second, and your usual response started sliding out of your mouth before you could even think.
“Oh, no, sorry, I have a–”
The word boyfriend died right in your throat.
A sudden wave of realisation hit you. Did you have a boyfriend? You and Aerion text all day, you call each other every night, you eat dinner together... but he had never actually asked you out properly. He had never said the words.
Technically, you guys weren’t even dating. He wasn’t your boyfriend.
The silence stretched between the three of you, turning incredibly heavy. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Aerion lean back slowly in his seat. His posture went rigid, his jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek.
Shaking off the sudden thought, you forced a tight, polite smile and shook your head at the guy. “Sorry, I’m just… yeah. But thank you.”
The guy caught the terrifying form radiating from Aerion, and mumbled a quick “oh, okay, my bad,” before bolting back to his friends.
You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, your heart doing a weird thud against your ribs. You swallowed hard, slowly lowering your fork back to your plate, trying your best to act normal. But when you finally gathered the courage to look back across the table, Aerion’s eyes were locked dead onto your face.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The background noise of clinking glasses and chatter was drowned out by the heavy atmosphere hanging over your table. Aerion picked up his drink, taking a slow sip, his gaze never once wavering from your face.
“What were you going to tell him?” he asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone.
You moved your fork around your plate, trying your best to look unbothered. “What do you mean? I told him no.”
“Before that,” Aerion corrected, “you started saying ‘I have a…’ and then you choked. What was the rest of that sentence?"
A flush of heat crawled up your neck. You couldn't tell if you were embarrassed or just annoyed that he was backing you into a corner. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter,” he countered, a stubborn edge bleeding into his tone. He tilted his head, studying the way you purposely avoided his eyes. “Were you going to say you had a boyfriend?”
You finally snapped your gaze up, meeting his head-on. “Well, I couldn’t exactly say that, could I? Because I don’t.”
Aerion blinked. The bluntness of your response caught him off guard.
“You’ve never actually asked me out,” you pointed out, mumbling slightly. “Technically, I’m single. So I couldn’t use you as an excuse.”
The silence that followed was weighed down by a sudden realisation on his part. Aerion sat back, processing your words.
He was so used to having your undivided attention, so accustomed to the seamless way you had a space in his routine, that he hadn't even realised he left a massive hole for any random guy to step through. And clearly, the mere thought of anyone else having a claim on you made him feel sick.
He licked his lower lip, his expression hardening profound determination. “Fine.”
“Fine?” you repeated, raising a brow.
“This saturday” he paused, the casual drawl returning to his voice, though his eyes remained focused on yours. “I’m picking you up at eight. We’re going on a proper date.”
You tried to suppress a smile, biting down on your inner cheek. “Are you asking me or ordering me?”
“I’m telling you,” Aerion said, a familiar smirk finally returning to his lips. He reached across the small table, his fingers lightly brushing against your wrist. “Because I’m not dealing with another dumbass trying his luck with you.”
Your heart gave a soft, fluttery jump against your ribs. You looked down at his hand resting against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a pleasant shiver up your arm. Even when he was being demanding, it was impossible to ignore the warmth hidden beneath his pride.
“Okay,” you murmured, looking back up to meet his gaze, a small smile breaking through. “Eight o’clock. Don’t be late.”
“I won’t be,” he promised.
Saturday arrived, and you spent the entire afternoon vibrating with a mix of excitement and nerves. You had spent way too long picking out a dress, styling your hair perfectly, and checking your reflection in the mirror until you were completely satisfied with your makeup.
By 7:55 PM, you were sitting on your living room sofa, your purse resting on your lap, ready to go.
Right on cue, your phone buzzed in your palm. You scrambled to open it, expecting a text from Aerion saying he was outside, but it was a message from Tanselle.
Tanselle #cantsing#plsstop: let me see the fitttt
You smiled, typing back quickly.
YOU: [IMAGE ATTACHED]
YOU: Waiting for him to get heree
Tanselle #cantsing#plsstop: and just like that im gay
YOU: LMAO pls
Then the clock struck 8:00 PM.
Five minutes passed. You figured he was probably stuck at a red light. You checked your phone, but the screen remained completely blank.
Ten minutes. Sitting back against the cushions, the minutes began to tick away, and the excitement began to fade. You unlocked your phone and opened his chat, typing out a quick message.
YOU: ru here yett?
Twenty minutes. Your text didn’t even get a response. You tried calling him, but it didn’t ring.
A sickening mix of disappointment and fury flared up in your chest. The memory of him standing at your booth just a week ago, arrogantly demanding to be your boyfriend, suddenly felt like a joke. You had actually trusted him to show up, and he was ghosting you.
“Fuck this,” you muttered to yourself, powering off your phone.
You weren’t going to sit around waiting for him. You were already fully dressed up. You were going to get food, with or without him.
Slamming the apartment door behind you, you walked down the hallway and took the stairs down to the complex parking lot. You did a slow, sweeping scan of the rows, half hoping to spot his car pulling in, but the asphalt was completely empty of any familiar vehicles.
Your jaw clenched. That was the final straw.
Your favorite diner was only about a ten minute walk down the main street, and a giant plate of comfort food sounded infinitely better than dealing with Aerion right now.
The air was cooling down, but your skin was boiling. Every step you took on the sidewalk felt like an exclamation point to your rage. The sheer humiliation of it was what burned the most—you had spent hours getting ready, only to be left sitting on your sofa like you were nothing.
You had barely made it two blocks from your complex when the distinct, low purr of an engine sounded right behind you.
A sleek car slowly crept up to the curb, matching your exact walking pace. The passenger window rolled down, revealing Aerion gripping the steering wheel.
He called your name out, “get in,” he said, his voice laced with a frantic edge. “Please. Just get in the car.”
You stopped dead in your tracks, turning on your heel to glare at him. “Go away.”
“I’m sorry, just let me explain,” he pleaded, leaning across the center console so his face was closer to the open window, keeping his foot lightly on the brake to match your steps as you started walking again. “Don’t do this. Just hear me out.”
“Hear you out?” you snapped, your voice rising as the frustration boiled over. “You’re twenty minutes late! I sat there like an idiot while you ghosted me. You don’t get to–” you let out a furious exhale. “Just go back home.”
Aerion licked his lips, looking seriously desperate. Because he was driving slowly along the busy street, the cars behind him were struggling to pass through. Within seconds, a line of blinding headlights began to stack up. A loud horn echoed through the street.
Aerion didn’t look back, unbothered by the massive traffic he was single handedly creating.
“Aerion, you’re blocking the road,” you hissed, your cheeks flushing at the mortification as several people on the sidewalk turned to stare at the scene.
“I don’t give a shit,” he shot back, slamming the car into park, completely ignoring a barrage of angry honks. His unyielding eyes locked onto yours. “I’m not moving the car until you get in. Let them honk.”
Realizing his stubbornness was boundless and that your public humiliation was only going to get worse if you stayed on the sidewalk, you let out a livid growl. You tore the passenger door open, slid into the leather seat, and slammed it shut.
“You are an unbelievable prick,” you muttered, instantly turning your body toward the window, folding your arms tightly over your waist.
Aerion didn’t say a word. He immediately stepped on the gas, turning sharp left into a parking lot a block away. He pulled into a secluded space beneath a large tree.
Before he could even open his mouth, you turned on him, your brows furrowed. “You have a phone, Aerion! It takes exactly two seconds to type a text that says ‘I’m running late.’ But you couldn't even do that. You clearly didn’t–no, don't care about how long I sat there waiting for you.”
“I do care,” he insisted, his voice cracking slightly with raw vulnerability. He held up his phone, tapping the screen before shoving it into your hands. “But my dad called. Look at the screen.”
You looked down at the glowing display. Open on his phone was a text thread from his dad. Your eyes scanned the messages stretching across the last hour.
It was a brutal barrage of stern texts, culminating in a string of missed calls and direct orders demanding Aerion handle his brother Daeron's latest legal mess immediately.
Aerion was stuck on a group call with his father and some legal person all the way from 7:28 to 8:02 PM.
“I couldn’t hang up on him,” Aerion murmured, his eyes searching your face, begging you for forgiveness. “The second he let me off the phone, I didn’t look at my notifications. I just went straight to my car and drove to your place. When I saw you weren’t there, I tried calling back but you didn’t pick up.”
Looking at the undeniable proof on his screen, the knot in your chest slowly began to deflate. He wasn't lying. He looked exhausted and terrified that his family problems had ruined his chances with you.
You slowly handed the phone back to him, letting out a long, shaky breath, though you kept your posture guarded. “I’m sorry your dad’s putting you through this. But I wish you spared at least a second to tell me.”
“I know,” he said softly, leaning in a fraction closer, his gaze fixed entirely on your eyes. “I messed up. I’m sorry.”
You didn’t know what to say. Glancing down at the dashboard clock, it was already creeping past 8:30 PM.
“What about the restaurant?” you asked, shifting in your seat and breaking the quiet. “We’re late. They probably gave our table away to someone else.”
Hearing the softer tone in your voice, Aerion reached forward and turned the ignition on. The engine roared back to life and he shifted the car into drive.
“What about it?” He casted a brief glance your way as he turned the steering wheel to pull out of the lot. “They know my family. That table isn’t going anywhere.”
As it turned out, he wasn’t exaggerating. When the two of you arrived, the hostess didn’t even look at the clock. The moment Aerion stepped in, her eyes widened slightly, and she immediately gathered two menus.
“Right this way, please.”
She led you both past the main dining area to a secluded table in the back, tucked away and bathed in the warm, golden glow of a low hanging chandelier.
But the moment you slid onto the plush velvet seat, Aerion stopped before sitting down across from you. He patted his pocket, his brows drawing together as if he just remembered something urgent.
“Wait,” he murmured, “I have to go back to the car. I left something in the console.”
Before you could even reply, he turned around and disappeared back through the restaurant lobby.
Your stomach instantly dropped, another wave of disappointment washing over you. You sat alone at the table, feeling completely out of place.
You automatically assumed Maekar had called him the second he stepped out of the vehicle, and now Aerion was going to stand in the parking lot for another twenty minutes handling it while you sat here by yourself.
A few minutes passed, each second stretching like an eternity. You were about to go look for him when a shadow fell over the table.
You snapped your head up, about to question him but the words died on your lips.
Aerion was standing there, holding an absurdly large bouquet of fresh white roses mixed with your favorite delicate florals. He looked slightly flushed, a rare hint of self consciousness in his eyes as he carefully placed the massive arrangement on the seat right beside you. The sweet, rich scent of the flowers immediately engulfing you.
You were going to speak but he slid into the seat across from you and reached into his pocket, placing a small, sleek black velvet box onto the table. He pushed it forward until it tapped gently against your water glass.
“Did you think I was making another call?” he asked gently as he read the lingering tension on your face. “I had to hide them in the trunk so you wouldn’t see them on the drive over.”
Your heart did a brutal flip against your ribs. You reached out, picked up the box, and opened it. Resting inside was a gorgeous, delicate gold ring, its band intricately designed to perfectly match the silver rings he always wore on his own hands.
“To make it official,” Aerion explained, leaning forward, his gaze locking onto yours intensely, making your breath hitch. “No more confusion. I’m yours, you’re mine.”
A massive, sweet smile broke across your face. You tried your absolute best to bite your lower lip and fight it down, wanting to contain your excitement, but it was pointless.
“A massive bouquet and a ring?” you giggled, lifting the delicate band out of the box and slipping it onto your finger. It fit flawlessly. You held your hand up, admiring the way it caught the warm candlelight before looking back at him.
“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend or trying to marry me, Aerion? You are so extra.” You teased, though your heart was beating with a dizzying speed.
Aerion let out a low laugh, the last of the tension shattering as he reached across the table, wrapping his hand firmly over yours. “It suits you.” He spun the ring around your finger, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction and softness that was reserved just for you.
The drive back to your apartment was filled with anticipation. The sweet scent of the white roses filled the car, resting safely in your lap as you kept twisting the new ring around your finger.
Aerion drove with one hand on the wheel, his other hand resting firmly on the center console, palm up. You slid your fingers into his, and he immediately locked them together, his thumb tracing slow strokes over your skin all the way to your apartment.
When he parked, he didn’t give you a chance to reach for the flowers. He grabbed the massive bouquet himself, keeping his other hand anchored to the small of your back as he guided you up the stairs and down the quiet hallway to your front door.
You unlocked the door, stepping into your apartment. You turned around to finally take the arrangement from him, but Aerion simply bypassed you, setting the heavy bundle down on the table in the living room.
The front door clicked shut behind him, locking you both in.
The atmosphere in the room instantly shifted, thick with magnetic tension that made your pulse hitch.
Aerion stepped right in front of you, crowding you until your back met the cool wood of the door. He rested one hand flat against the wood beside your head, trapping you in.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured, searching your face. His gaze traveled deliberately down your dress before snapping back up to lock onto your eyes. “It took everything in me to sit through dinner without doing this.”
A breathless smile formed on your face, your heart doing a violent thud. “Really? Thought you were just staring at the menu.”
“I wasn’t looking at the menu,” he muttered, a soft gleam in his eyes. His free hand reached up, his fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of your neck, his thumb tilting your chin up.
He leaned down, closing the remaining distance to capture your lips in a deep kiss.
Heat shot through your entire body. Your hands instantly flew up, tangling desperately into his soft hair, pulling him closer. Aerion let out a low groan against your mouth, his hand leaving the door to wrap tightly around your waist.
He pulled you flush, removing any space left between you until you could feel the frantic beat of his heart against your own.
The kiss quickly escalated. His tongue slid past your parted lips, tasting you with a hunger that made your knees weak.
Without breaking contact, his hands slid down to hook firmly under your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up from the floor.
You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging to his shoulders as he carried you across the short distance of the room, seamlessly setting you down onto the cushions of the sofa.
He hovered over you, his forearms bracing his weight on either side of your shoulders. The sheer happiness of the night finally overtook you. You let out a muffled giggle against his lips.
Aerion paused, backing up just a fraction. He looked down at you, a massive, soft smile breaking across his own face.
“What?” he whispered, his chest heaving as he laughed softly against your mouth, his nose playfully nuzzling yours. “What's so funny?”
“Nothing,” you gasped out, laughing properly now as you wrapped your arms securely around his neck, pulling him down a little closer.
He chuckled warmly as he leaned down to kiss you again.
This time, it was different. It was sweet and messy. You both kept laughing in between kisses, your lips bumping together clumsily as Aerion peppered them all over your face.
“Stop, I can’t breathe,” you giggled, pressing your hands flat on his chest, though your fingers were still gripping his shirt.
“Don’t care,” he mumbled against your lips, a light laugh escaping him as he caught your mouth one more time, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you tight on the cushions of your quiet apartment.
