"You're angry with me," Jon turned around to look at her. She was halfway to the kitchen when she spun around, seething, "What makes you think that?"
Jon chuckled but when he caught her reaction, he kept silent.
. . . . .
5 minutes earlier
Dany put away the dishes, pulling them out, one by one, from the dishwasher. If she continued staring at them like that he was sure she would break them by sheer willpower.
He continued typing away on his computer, halfheartedly watching the television in the background.
"Dany?" He continued working, "Dany, would you mind getting me a glass of water? I'm trying to finish planning this and it's taking forever."
He heard no reply.
Seconds later, she stood above him, expressionless, and handed him a glass filled to the rim with ice.
All she said: "Wait."
. . . . .
She was known for her temper. Her whole family was known for their temper. Don't get him started on Thanksgiving dinner. Blood of the dragon, they called it. Jon just thought they were really into the Hobbit trilogy. For all the dragons in their house, he couldn't come up with a better reason.
"Dany," he conceded, "I'm sorry."
Dany cocked an eyebrow, watching him from the kitchen. "Then you'll give me this."
Jon shook his head, "I'm not that sorry."
Dany tossed the dish towel on the counter, crossing her arms and leaning against the kitchen table. "You're impossible."
"You're unreasonable," Jon responded. He was not yielding on this. Most things, yes, she could get her way but this time, he was going to stand his ground if it was the last thing he would do.
They let the silence roll over the afternoon and they stayed like this for at least half an hour. Stubbornness was one of both of their fatal flaws. Put them together and they could stay like this for hours.
"I don't like you right now," Dany said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. She opened up a book and flipped through the pages.
"Well I don't like you right now either so there." Jon turned towards the side, moving his laptop from his lap to the arm of the chair. He positioned his body away from Dany. By now, the ice had started to melt. If he took a sip she would either start to laugh or throw the pillow at him. He decided to take the chance.
He reached for the glass of melting ice on the coffee table. As she saw him, she arched an eyebrow. It was a challenge. With a smirk, he picked up the glass and took a long swing. There happened to be less than a sip of water in the cup. Instead, the ice just shifted in the glass, hitting him smack in the nose.
He felt the pillow hit him in the stomach. It was worth a try.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence of just Jon and Dany waiting for the other one to talk, Jon blurted out, "Maybe we can compromise."
"That wouldn't work even if we tried," Dany responded, pawing through the pages in her book.
Jon sighed, "You're not even reading that." Jon took the book from her hands. "All you're doing is flipping through the pages."
Dany couldn't argue that one. Instead, she just scoffed, propped her feet up on the sofa and took the remote from the table. She flipped through the channels before she landed on CNN. As much as he liked watching the news and getting into political debates with Dany over which politicians looked like they were dead behind the eyes and hoping that some proactive viewer would save them, Jon was not in the mood.
As she put down the remote, he stole it from the sofa, quickly changing the channel back to some documentary about god knows what on the History Channel.
It was the principle in the matter, not the television station. Jon, still holding the remote, was suddenly attacked by Dany who tried to wrangle it out of his hands. Today was not one of their best days.
"What do you want to let me have this?" Dany asked, still gripping the remote tightly.
"The television . . ." Jon knew exactly what he was doing.
"Fine," Dany crossed her arms and leaned into the sofa, "I was prepared to bargain."
"What's your proposal?" Jon made sure to put the remote on the other side of him, away from her.
With a glimmer in her eyes, Dany pulled her hair out of a ponytail. Jon could smell her vanilla shampoo from the other side of the couch. Dany never answered Jon. Instead she moved towards the end of the couch, resting her legs on his knees. He placed his palm on her unblemished skin, letting the tips of his finger trace circles on her calf.
Jon was going to lose.
Dany inched closer, letting her hair fall perfectly on the side of her face. Jon was screwed.
She moved closer until there was only an inch between them. Dany's eyes searched his own. She cupped the side of his face with her hand.
"Willing to give in yet?" Dany whispered in his ear. It took all of Jon's willpower not to shiver at her touch.
She was about a milimeter away from him.
"I can't," he said, hesitantly.
And with that, Dany got up, shrugged her shoulders and took a step to leave. She didn't make it any further. Jon grabbed her by the arm, pulling her down to kiss him. Dany laughed. Her cold exterior faded away.
"So that's a yes?"
Jon shook his head.
"You're the fucking worst." Dany rolled her eyes. Jon immediately covered her mouth.
The sounds of little pitter patters got louder and louder until another set of orbs were staring up at Jon.
"Language," Jon whispered to Dany.
The little human in sight had the famous Targaryen hair, braided in the back just like her mother.
"We should just let her decide."
Dany opened her arms, allowing the girl to run into them.
"Sweetie," Dany began, "Your father and I have a problem and we need your help with it." The young girl just nodded.
"Your mom thinks that your birthday party should have a How to Train Your Dragon theme but I think it should be The Secret Lives of Pets."
Dany brushed the hair out of the girl's face, "Didn't you like the movie when we saw it with your uncles? You roared with Uncle Rhaegar for hours."
"But dogs," Jon interjected.
"Nice argument, honey," Dany said, propping the girl up on her hip, "What do you say?"
"Finding Dory." Dany just laughed.
"I guess we're inviting the Tully family."