Chapter I. Those blessing cold nights.
Despite the fact that summer wasn't over yet, the chilly nights in Winterfell reminded us one simple truth, the words of my father's house: winter was coming. And that particular lonely night, with the icy cold hitting my skin, those words seemed to make sense for me at last.
I got out of my bed and grabbed the oil lamp that laid on the bed table with no idea of what I was going to do next. After the disgraceful events that had taken place during sword practice that morning I couldn't sleep, and the unbearable cold wasn't really making things easier. I slipped on my fur coat—the one with which I felt warmer, the one which make me feel safe—and left my chambers, trying not to make too much noise.
The corridors were wrapped up in silence and darkness. Of course, everyone was sleeping in that part of the castle. Everyone but me. I shivered involuntarily when the cool Winterfell wind whipped my face. No doubt the temperature outside my bedroom was considerably lower than it was inside it, and that made me wonder if the conditions of my brother's chambers would be better. Stupid question, I supposed, since my bastard brother didn't have any kind of comfort beyond basic care.
And I still don't know why, I headed up to his chambers. I guess I wanted to make up to Jon, although our argument hadn't been so terrible that I couldn't wait until the following day to apologize to him. It had been Theon's fault anyway—it was always his fault—but maybe I just needed an excuse to sneak in my brother's chambers.
The heavy wooden door was closed, but as the heir of Winterfell I had all the keys of the castle, so I inserted it in the lock and turned it until I managed to come in. The toasted smell of wood burning in the fireplace assaulted my nostrils as soon as I set foot in the room. Jon dozed peacefully on his bed, covered from chin to toes with thick woollen blankets. It was such a loveable and tender image that I had to remind me that the man lying on that bed was my brother, and I shouldn't experiment that kind of feelings for him.
My eyes wandered around the room as I tried to decide whether or not I should wake him up. Would he still be mad at me? Jon and I were not only brothers, but also very close friends, and his kind soul always forgave me for all I did to him. There was no reason to believe that this time was going to be different.
I sat on the edge of his bed, the one in which I wanted to spend all my nights, the one that appeared in all my dark dreams. Dreams about my bastard brother, the man I was in love with.
"Robb?", he inquired with a sweet sleepy voice. "What are you doing here?"
I swallowed hard before answering that question. The truth was that I knew what I wanted to do there and, more important, to whom, but I couldn't say it out loud. Especially not to my brother, the object of my darkest desires.
"I've come here to apologize", I finally answered with a voice that sounded so weak and unconfident that I wished I haven't opened my mouth at all. "I should have defended you when Theon…"
"Don't", he interrupted me, sitting up in bed with some difficulty. "It wasn't your fault, Stark. Forget about this morning. I'm used to people calling me like that".
And then he put his hand over mine. My heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second as gooseflesh rose on my skin. It was astonishing the way my body reacted every time my brother touched me or looked at me with those enigmatic black eyes. I should have left the room at that moment before my brother found out the effect that his caresses provoked in me, but I wasn't able to move. My whole body was paralyzed and unable of doing anything but staring at my brother's desirable black curls.
"It's late", my brother pointed out, his lids dropped over his eyes tiredly. "It has been an exhausting day and we need to rest. Perhaps we should go back to sleep".
"Do you want me to leave?", I couldn't help but ask, my voice so childish and desperate that at that moment anyone could have confused me with Sansa. When I was aware of what I had just said, I wished with all my heart I was able to take those words back. But my brother was too sleepy to realize the despair that consumed my heart.
"You can stay, if you want", he replied, lying down on bed again carelessly. It was such a big temptation, having my hot, dashing and irresistible brother so close to me. Would I be able to control myself not to tear off his clothes with my teeth? Could I sleep without thinking of his smooth pale skin under mine? Could I resist the need of making him moan in pleasure by kissing every single part of his loveable anatomy?
"Yes", I answered, the desire being stronger than my principles. "I'll stay".
