A/N: Crappy title, short piece. I'm desperately trying to get my muse back so I can finish Leaving Winter. Please forgive me but be patient as well. And thanks for all the lovely messages (and threatening ones haha)...I will finish the story. No one's reading it anymore, probably, but I would feel better if I just get that final chapter up. I've just been out of muse for the last two years (I'm crying at the length of time it's taking me, to be honest), and show Gendry/Gendrya isn't helping. I miss my babies so bad. I'm missing my muse so bad.

But here's a short one anyway. If I have to put up short pieces like these to help me get my groove back, I would. I will. Help me? Maybe some prompts or fic recs would help! Send me a PM. :)

She poked her finger into the cake, watching her eyes move from side to side to see if anyone's looking. Of course he was, but she didn't know that. Without another word, she licked the frosting from her finger, happily sucking on it like it were the only good thing about this New Year's Eve party. Before anyone could see her, she moved on to the bar where she convinced the bartender to pour her a cocktail. He could see her wrinkle her nose, obviously hoping for something stronger, before moving to sit somewhere in the corner.

"Who's that?"

Gendry was startled by the voice and immediately cleared his throat. He almost jumped in surprise, thankfully he didn't, before turning to face the intruder.

"No one," he mumbled almost incoherently. "Just someone my Dad knows. Or something."

"No one?"

"Yes," Gendry replied in a huff. "She's no one. I don't know her."

"Ahh…the Stark girl," his friend said, looking at the direction Gendry was looking. "The younger one. The older one's got legs for days, you know what I mean?"

Gendry nudged his friend roughly. "Go away, Lommy. I gotta go find Shireen. My cousin's the only sane and probably sober one at this party." Without giving his friend a chance to reply, he trudged out of the crowded room, but not without noticing that the Stark girl was nowhere to be seen.

"Where have you been, you little prat?"

Shireen turned to look up at him, obviously comfortable just sitting on the floor and chatting with two other boys he didn't know. She flashed him a cheeky grin and pointed towards the others. "Gendry, meet Bran and Rickon Stark. We were just talking about books and stuff."

Gendry sat on the floor beside her, flashing a small but awkward smile towards the two. "I hope by stuff, you don't mean stuff you've read in your dusty History books."

Shireen's cheeks turned pink, making Gendry and the Stark boys laugh. She hid her face in her hands and kicked Gendry's leg away from her. He only hooked an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head and deciding to tease her no more. "It's probably more fun talking about books here than stuff your faces with food, yeah?"

"Pffft. That's so boring."

They all looked up to find No One standing there, holding her phone in one hand and her heels with the other. Gendry's initial reaction was to look at her feet, to which she wasn't too happy about. She grumbled softly about idiots and shuffled her feet to keep her from staring. Gendry's smirk must have annoyed her then, because she dropped the shoes she was holding just to smack the back of his head. Shireen and the Stark boys laughed much to Gendry's chagrin, then No One flopped to sit beside him.

"You were watching me earlier."

"Wh-what?"

"You were watching me earlier," she put a stress on every word, deliberately putting him in an awkward situation. "In the other room. I was tasting the cake."

"You weren't tasting the cake, you were poking your fingers in it!"

"Excuse me, finger."

"Same difference. If only people knew your hands were in that cake, I don't think anyone would want a piece of that now."

She rolled her eyes and turned to face him, holding her index finger up. "Finger. Not fingers, not hand. I poked my finger in the cake because I wanted to taste it."

Gendry returned her eyeroll. "You can slice a piece for that purpose. Normal people don't poke their fingers in cakes."

"I dip my finger in the icing bowl when Mum bakes," said Rickon. "Arya's not normal, but poking fingers in icing batter is perfectly normal."

Arya raised her thick brows at Rickon before giving Gendry a smug look. "You hate peas. You scrunch your nose at them before pushing them to the side of your plate."

Gendry made a surprised face, then a smug one following it. "So you were watching me as well."

"Was not."

"Totally were."

"Not!"

"Still are."

"Oookay, then," Shireen said, getting on her feet and tugging Bran and Rickon with her. "I think we're done listening to this, um, conversation. When you're done figuring out who's watching whom, we'll be watching TV in Myrcella's room…in case you're both interested."

Gendry got on his feet as well, not bothering to look at Arya. "I better find Dad because I'm done with this party. I have an early shift tomorrow so I'm out of here." He followed his cousin out of the room, but reappeared to give Arya a small salute. "Happy New Year, Stark."

She was freezing.

The room was too noisy for her at the moment, but she was too engrossed in this ridiculously-written, horribly-cast reality show on TV. It was so bad it was good, even for her taste. She pulled the blanket over her, but Sansa pulled it back.

"You're so annoying! Give it back!"

Arya ignored her sister but snuggled comfortably beside her. "Who's that guy who calls Robert 'Dad'?"

"Hm?" Sansa was looking at the TV but nestled closer to her as well. "That guy with the toned arms but lacking in height?"

Arya laughed.

Sansa chuckled and looked at her sister. "That's Gendry. Dad said he's Robert's son from another woman, before he even married Cersei. Why?"

"Nothing."

"Arya Stark?"

"Hm?"

"Arya Stark."

"That's my name. Don't wear it out."

"Arya Stark!"

"Seven Hells! What?"

Sansa wiggled her brows. "He's cute, isn't he? I heard he's good with cars. No wonder his arms are so…veiny."

"That's a good thing?"

"Yes," Sansa sighed softly. "Like they're a sign that he's a manly man and he's good with his hands."

"Oh, gods. Stop."

Sansa laughed and went back to watching. "Why'd you ask anyway?"

Arya left the question hanging in the air.

"Your Dad said I'd find you here."

Gendry gave a funny little yelp. He was trying to get comfortable by the edge of the roof, knowing he would get a really good view of the fireworks from this point. Arya's voice startled him, he almost lost his footing.

"Warrior, help me! You're incorrigible, but you know that, right?" He carefully sat by the edge, his legs dangling from what was probably a twelve-foot drop. Arya followed suit, less carefully to his horror, but her legs were dangling beside his anyhow.

"I know. That's what everyone tells me."

Gendry shook his head with a slight chuckle. "You really should listen to people. Might do you good."

"I don't wanna be good," she replied, almost quickly. She gave him a sideways glance. "I mean I don't wanna be good all the time. That's boring."

"What are you doing here anyway?"

Arya sighed deeply, as if irritated being fired questions at. "Robert said you should go down for the countdown. It's five minutes to 2016." She looked at her watch, squinted her eyes, then dropped her hand again. "More like three minutes."

Gendry muttered under his breath. "I hate these parties."

"Me too."

"Ah," he said with a genuine smile. "Finally. Something we agree on. Feels good, doesn't it?"

"Shut up."

He laughed softly, then pretended to zip his mouth with an invisible zipper. They were quiet for a while, listening to everyone downstairs as they counted down to the new year. As soon as the counting stopped and everyone was loudly shouting their New Year greetings, the fireworks started. Flashes of red, green, yellow and blue spread across the dark sky…as if letting everyone know that everything's going to be alright. Arya closed her eyes and made her wish, and Gendry watched the colors dance across her pretty doll-like face. He leaned close to whisper "Happy New Year, Arya" into her ear, but she jumped at his proximity and turned her head towards him. Her lips brushed across his cheek, landing on the corner of his mouth, and she immediately pulled back.

"Oh…my…god…"

Gendry chuckled. "It's alright. Makes me wonder if you've ever been kissed on New Year's Eve."

Arya almost choked. "Wh-what? I mean…I've never…you know…"

Gendry raised a brow. "Never?"

"Never."

"At all?"

"Nope. What are you doing?"

Gendry put a finger to her lips to shush her. He was looking at her in a way that made Arya uncomfortable…but not in a bad way? She could feel his breath on her cheeks, his hand slowly cupping her face to keep her in place.

Oh, god.

She felt his lips on the corner of her mouth, but only fleetingly. His thumb was drawing circles on her skin, it was distracting her. In a good way.

Oh. My. God.

"Happy New Year, Arya…"

Shit! Shit!

Gendry pressed a soft kiss on her lips…chastely so as not to frighten her. Arya could feel and hear her heartbeat in her chest, drumming so furiously as she was being kissed. She was unaware that she was holding on to a fistful of his shirt, also unaware that she was encouraging the kiss. Seeing as she hasn't shoved him away and punched the living daylights out of him yet, Gendry smiled against her lips before giving her a full on kiss. He smelled so good…like he just got out of the shower…and Arya's senses went reeling. That and the fact that his lips were nibbling on hers, not to mention that little slip of his tongue between her lips…

Seven, help me…

"You taste like cream cheese frosting."

Arya laughed then. If anything were to make her comfortable in an awkward (but wonderful) situation, that was it. "Happy New Year, Gendry."

The corner of lips turned up. "I'd like some more of that cream cheese frosting."