Fucking hell. His finger loomed over his phone screen, hoping he could will the universe to take back the last ten seconds. He stared at the picture that would be the death of him. It was a picture of her, laughing, her head thrown back and her hair framing her face. Behind her were the streets of Paris, the lamp light dancing off the cobblestones.

Below the caption and the comments, the little heart icon was red. The picture was from 231 weeks ago. He went back more than four and a half years and like an idiot, liked a picture.

Who does that? Four and a half years. She's going to think he's a stalker. He wanted to turn off his phone and chuck it at the wall. Idiot. This guy.

She was going to be there any minute, or maybe she turned back once she saw that he liked a picture from years before they even met. He better drop the class and move out from the dorm where they both happened to live. Hell, he was ready to transfer out of the university.

He couldn't help himself. Her Instagram was pretty great. For one, she traveled all over the world. Her dad was a pilot so it definitely worked in her favor. One week she would post about eating homemade dumplings in a small village in China and the next, she was on top of the Eiffel Tower. It also didn't help that she happened to be majoring in photography and her pictures were always perfectly styled. From the lighting to the angles, no one would argue that they were beautifully shot.

Second, her captions were hilarious. She had a knack for writing really long hashtags that would take him too long to read. She had a knack for comedy and Instagram was her platform.

Third, she was beautiful. He knew it wasn't just the editing because he had seen those eyes in person and man, they were inexplicable.

Maybe she didn't notice. Maybe she didn't see. He was kidding himself. She pretty much lived off that phone. Maybe she turned around and would not meet up for him to talk about their homework assignment for Monday's class. Avoid him at all costs. That might be her new goal.

Before he could spin any further, he saw her enter the coffee shop, her hair thrown up in a messy bun.

"Hey," she greeted, taking a seat next to him.

She smelled like vanilla. He needed to concentrate.

"Yeah, hi. I'm Jon." He reached out his hand which she shook with her own. Her hand is so soft. He needs to calm down. Maybe he should go to student psychiatric services. He would check himself in tomorrow.

Daenerys laughed, "I know who you are. We have Art History together now." She pointed to their matching textbooks, "Which is why we're meeting here if you haven't forgotten and you live across the hall from me."

"Stalker much," he joked. He wanted to punch himself in the face. He was spiraling.

Dany laughed, "So do you know what this all means." Dany gestured to a page full of random sculptures and paintings that meant absolutely nothing to him. Dany continued, "Because I don't even know where to start."

. . . . .

When they went their separate ways that night, Jon was pretty glad his heart was still beating. It was beating out of his chest, but alas, he was physically alive.

Maybe she really didn't see the notification.

Jon's phone buzzed.

- DanyTargaryen liked a picture from 218 weeks ago-

- DanyTargaryen left a comment-

He was going to be sick. He unlocked the phone to find himself staring at a picture of a rather babyface Jon cheesin mad hard at the camera. The comment: ;)

She knew what he did. Before he knew what he was doing, he scrolled through her page until he happened upon a photo from a good 3.5 years ago. She was balancing on rope bridge in Thailand, her hands outstretched and her balance wobbly. He left a comment.

-Now who's the stalker-

Jon opened his mini fridge to pull out a bottle of water. Within a minute, his phone buzzed again.

This time, it was a picture of Sansa forcing him to eat the flan that she had tried to make when he was home. She had been on a cooking spree that week. Jon looked at all the comments until he found her comment at the bottom: "What can I say? I'm your biggest flan." Jon genuinely laughed out loud.

Jon lay back on his bed, falling into the covers. As he typed, "You're easy to fall for," under a picture of her throwing a bunch of fallen leaves on the ground, almost immediately he saw her comment on his photo of Arya dressed as a dinosaur for Halloween, "I just think you're dino-mite."

Jon finished his water before walking out of his dorm room and towards the common room. He eyed the water refill station, but his attention was diverted when he saw her lounging on the couch, flipping through channels. His breath hitched and he went to turn around.

Before he could make a safe escape, Dany called out, "So you actually are a stalker." She turned to look at him, a smile playing on her face.

"Only for you," he responded. She reached for the bowl of popcorn on the table before offering him some. He walked around the couch and plopped down beside her. That night was a wild ride from start to finish but he wasn't complaining.

Jokes became part of their daily banter. It became second nature to the two.

. . . . .

10 years later

Dany and Jon walked around their old dorm, reminiscing about the history of these halls.

They were approached by a twenty something year old with a clipboard and a nametag. "You're here for the reunion, Mr. and Mrs. . . . ?"

"Hi," Dany reached out her hand, "I'm Dany and this is my ex-boyfriend."

The woman took a step back. "Oh, I'm sorry," she began, stuttering over her words.

"I wish you wouldn't say that." Jon wrapped his arm around her waist. "I'm Jon, her husband."