Viserys: A Christmas Miracle
A/N: He spoke to me, my baby, so of course, I will let him speak.
XX
Viserys looked at his reflection in the mirror, while adjusting his tie. He furrowed his brows and let his fingers rub over the sharp features of his jaw. Despite his red eyes and the clear exhaustion that crept on his face, he was devastatingly handsome. While Rhaegar was the clone of his father, Viserys had his own unique beauty, taking after his mother the most. He was charismatic, even when in a drunken stupor or a deep-white-hot-anger. He was sexy, even when he was wearing a three-piece grey suit. He was perfection.
Just a moment ago, Daenerys came to his room, to brief him about his behavior. She paid for his rehab, cleansing him from the drunken stupor he found himself in when he returned from Dorne. The silver queen did not want to know what triggered her brother’s relapse this time. She did not want to deal with his business because every time she tried, he ended up being violent with her. Viserys noted the way she shook and held onto the doorknob while talking to him, but instead of taunting his sister, he decided to let her speak.
“Be good. They are watching us.” That was all she said to him, reminding him that the family who visited them would spend most of their time gossiping about the offspring of the late Aerys and Rhaella. They would talk about what they became and how well they honored their family. They would scrutinize everything and would cast their judgment by the end of the first dinner. They all felt pressure on their shoulders, especially the black sheep of the family. The dragon king’s son only behaved because he wanted to honor his parents.
Usually, he would boast and would walk into the room, stealing the attention of everyone. He would irradiate the place with his raw and powerful charisma, forcing his family to stop whatever they were doing and focus on him and him only. He would make a show, just because he could but not this year. This year he did not want to be noticed. This year he just wanted to be forgotten and to forget everything.
Ever since he returned from Dorne, the dragon king’s son had been incredibly quiet. Unusually so. He appeared on social media, pictured with plenty of gorgeous women he did not even look or touch. He appeared with a sad and closed off face, mostly looking forward to drinking in the darkness of the club than to go out and party like an animal. As always, the silver fox was seen with Angel, with a drink in his hand and deep into his thoughts. It was so unusual that the tabloids were wondering what happened. There was even one magazine titled “Who tamed the Dragon’s son?” where Tabloids were theorizing that it probably was his longest on and off relationship with supermodel Cerise Newman.
It would make sense if it was someone he already knew. Viserys was a man quite difficult to tame and they wrongly assumed that only the woman who’d been with him the longest could form a bond strong enough to hurt him if she ignored him. Cerise did not ignore Viserys, he. There was that moment when he sent Kyra the last EP he produced. A song about her. She did not reply to his text and for a while, Viserys was tormented by the absence of words. Did she receive his text? Did she listen to the song? Did she like it? Did she understand? He had no means to know and being left in the dark destroyed him. He hated it.
For weeks he held onto his emotions so he could write the song. He felt bad, stupid, and for the first time in a long time, the silver fox blamed himself for his predicament. How could a weekend of relaxation and fun have turned so sour? Why did he have to stab that man who came closer to the blonde beauty? To his princess? Why did he feel so possessive for someone he’d just met? He couldn’t drink at the beginning because he wanted to understand. Yet, the more he searched for an answer, the least he understood what made him stab the guy and beat his friends. He wanted to protect Kyra, make sure she wasn’t soiled by the greasy grabby hands of a pervert. He wanted to spend more time with her, hear her laugh, and laugh with her. He wanted to watch her face lit up and run his hands in her blonde locks. She was so beautiful in that plane when there was only the two of them. He wanted to go back to this moment when there was nothing else in the world that mattered to him.
She made him feel something, something beautiful at that. For the first time in forever, he wasn’t thinking about himself. It wasn’t about his pleasure, his own taste, his desire. It was about making her smile and making sure she was happy. It was about her, everything he ever did -even that despicable thing-. For the first time, he was craving someone’s touch, someone’s warmth and while it still didn’t sit well with him, over the weeks that followed the song, it became obvious that he was missing her. Viserys felt that marijuana wasn’t enough for him anymore. He didn’t want to get numb, to ease his pain. He was angry. He was angry at himself for what happened. The good memories of the beach of Dorne and the moment in the airplane were tainted with memories of his older brother scolding him.
He could see the ghost of Rhaegar look at him with disappointment on his face, shaking his head as he wished his little brother kept at trying to be better. His perfect face and looks quickly became unbearable for the young dragon to see. The face of perfection judging him became too much and anger overwhelmed him. Kyra’s silence only worsened things for Viserys who knew he owed it to himself. He was his own worst enemy after all. So, he drank more, he got wasted and alongside his desperation, the Prince entered fisticuffs again. The prince trashed hotel rooms again, he hurt his perfect fingers again, the rain stain of the gashes caused by his punches appeared on every magazine, and once again, people were afraid of him.
This spiraling had to stop, with Christmas coming soon, Dany paid for an intense rehab that quickly sobered him up and forced him on a strict diet. They took great care of him, and while he was grateful to be sober again, he hated to have reached this level of clarity. He hated it because he saw how much he lost. He looked at his phone, knowing he had roughly an hour before his family arrived. Alone in his room, with the desire to see Kyra more than anything else, he decided to take a risk. It was Christmas, what more could he lose? He dialed her number, his heart beating faster than it ever did before, with her name at the tip of his lips as he wanted to say it. He waited for a while that felt like an eternity before finally, she took the phone.
“Prin--Kyra?”
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