Brienne stared at Jaime.
That wasn't too unusual. Everyone stared at him, especially every female creature. Brienne truly couldn't blame them. Even in his worst moments, Jaime still looked like a god. Since she had met him for the first time, she had often risked a look; at his golden hair, his sharp green eyes, his beautiful face or, if she had the chance, at his exposed skin or muscles.
But this time she wasn't looking at any of that.
She was staring at his chest or better: at the piece of clothing that covered his chest. It was a deep blue hoodie (that alone was weird, because Jaime usually preferred crimson), the King's Landing University-logo printed in white on the front and Brienne was pretty sure, that, if Jaime would turn around, she could read B. Tarth on the back. Yes, she was absolutely sure that it was her basketball-team-hoodie he was wearing.
"Gods, wench," Jaime said and Brienne could hear the smile in his voice. "My eyes are up here." He paused and then laughed. "I always wanted to say that. Now I know how all of you women must feel."
Brienne ignored his last comment. She knew all too well that no man had any interest in her barely existing cleavage. They didn't had any interest in any part of her body either, since she had obviously nothing to offer. The only man that ever had genuine interest in her, was Jaime.
There are no men like me, he always said. Only me.
Shyly she looked up, blushing like crazy. Partly because it was working like a reflex (after a lifetime of almost constantly blushing, her blush seemed to have an own life), and partly because Jaime caught her staring. He was lying on her bed in her dorm room, arms crossed behind his head and smiled knowingly – and a bit seductive – at her. "Do you like what you see?" He winked at her and she turned even redder.
Even after exactly twenty five and a half days of dating Jaime Lannister (and knowing him for a much longer time), Brienne was not used to his flirtations. Uncomfortable she shifted in her chair.
"Mine," she finally said and pointed at the hoodie. Jaime's eyes went big and for a second he was utterly speechless. Then a he smirked.
"Are we getting a bit possessive, Brienne?" Just hearing her name rolling over his tongue and lips sent goosebumps all over her body. He wasn't calling her Brienne that often – most of the time he stuck with wench. "That's quite unusual for you. What a pleasant cha-"
"It's my hoodie," she interrupted him, before he could finish his sentence. For a moment he looked like a gaping fish – a very handsome fish – and he didn't seem to understand. "You're wearing my hoodie." She pointed at it again and Jaime looked down at himself, if he had forgotten was he was wearing.
"You meant the hoodie?" he asked her and looked up again. In her ears he sounded a bit disappointed, but Brienne couldn't imagine why.
"Of course. Why are you wearing it?"
"I was cold." He shrugged as if it was no big deal.
"But it's mine."
"Should I have frozen to death then?"
"When did you take it?" she asked and ignored his question. She learned a long time ago that it was sometimes just easier to ignore him.
"A few days ago."
"Did you know, how long I searched for it? I thought I lost it." The last days Brienne had searched through every corner of her room, of the laundry-room, under her and Margaery's bed, she even went to Sansa's room to look for the piece of clothing, but she couldn't find it. The days started to get colder and she was rather fond of her hoodie.
Seeing Jaime wearing it now, sent an unfamiliar feeling through her. Brienne was nowhere near one of those pretty, petite girls like Sansa nor one of the seductive woman like Margaery. She was taller than her own boyfriend – it still sounded weird in her ears – and from behind she had been mistaken for a guy countless of times. Most of her clothes were fit for men, because they fit her better and she honestly did not care about them. Her hoodie was no exception from it. It was slightly too long for Jaime, but other than that it looked normal.
"How … I mean … Why are you wearingmy clothes?" she finally said, still not sure how to feel about this situation.
"That's what couples do, isn't it?" Jaime replied smoothly. "Wearing each others clothes."
"Usually it's the girl that wears her boyfriend's clothes."
"Well, you can have one of my hoodies," he said with a huge grin on his face.
Suddenly the feeling inside Brienne changed. Before she had been somewhat flattered that he wore something from her, but now it felt like a mock. Brienne knew all her life that she was more boy than girl and there had been only a few people, who tried to change her mind. Even Jaime had teased her a lot about her looks when they met. Later it had changed and even before they started dating, he had tried to make her see herself as a woman, not as some freak. Slowly she had even start to listen to him.
But this … Did he offer her his clothes to show her her manly build? To humiliate her? Was everything – this relationship and their friendship – in the end just a cruel joke? Did he plan it with his twin, Cersei? Were they laughing behind her back, making their jokes while Brienne slowly fell in love with this blond idiot?
Her memories about High School and Hyle Hunt came back to her. He had been kind to her, made her feel special, but in the end it had been just for a bet. Tears burnt in her eyes, but before Jaime could see them, she looked down at her book, originally opened for her to study. That had been before she noticed the hoodie.
"No thanks," she answered shortly, her voice sounding hoarse in her ears.
"I wouldn't mind," he said quickly. "I think I have some which might fit you."
There was another stab to her heart. She wanted to scream at him, tell them that he should drop the act, that he should go, that she know she was ugly, but no word left her lips. Instead she just shook her head.
"I really wouldn't mind," he repeated. "In fact, I think I would actually quite like it."
"Why do you want me to wear your hoodie?" she asked. Part of her wanted to look into his eyes, but she did not dare it. She was too afraid to see the truth in them.
"That's what couples do." He waited for her answer, but it never came. "If you don't like the hoodie-idea, we can do something else. What about bracelets? Oh no, that wouldn't work for the basketball-team. We could pierce our ears. Or a tattoo. A tattoo would be pretty cool, wouldn't it? I could get wench all over my arm."
"And what would you do with such a tattoo if we break up?"
"Why should we break up?" His answer sounded so honest and so puzzling, that Brienne finally did look into his eyes. There was something in them, that Brienne could not recognize, but there was no jest.
"Jaime, what is this all about?" she asked, after they had just stared at each other for a moment.
"I try to find something that shows that we are a couple," he answered bluntly.
"Why?"
"Because we are a couple, Brienne." His tone shifted and now he almost sounded angry. For a second Brienne was startled.
"I know that," she said quietly.
"Really?" His eyes turned darker in his anger and he sat up and scooted closer to her. Almost unconsciously she leaned back into her chair. "Then why is it, that you never let me hold your hand or let me kiss you when we are in public? Why can't I pick you up after your training? Why can't I walk you from one class to another? Why don't you want to wear my fucking hoodie?"
Brienne was just able to stare at him with her big blue eyes. She did not know, what to say about it. Seven hells, she hadn't even noticed, that he was bothered by it. The sole reason why she refused him those things was just because she was embarrassed by them. She wasn't used to any attention – of course she was used to the glares at her frame, at her face, her scar, everything that was ugly about her. But as soon as they saw her together with Jaime, the glances changed. They couldn't believe that someone like Jaime had any interest in her at all (Brienne couldn't believe it herself), that it must be a joke or something else. In Brienne's eyes it'll make things just worse if they would actually start acting like a couple. So afraid of the reactions, she tried to act as normal as she could, and in her eyes that meant to not change her behavior towards Jaime.
As Brienne didn't answer, Jaime leaned slightly back. He was still angry, she could see it in his eyes, but there was something else as well. He was hurt.
"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" he asked unusual quite.
At first Brienne thought she had imagine his words, because they were just so absurd. "I am ashamed to be seen with you?" she asked disbelieving.
"Why else wouldn't you allow me to even touch you if someone else is in the room?" he hissed. "Why else would you act like you don't know me if we meet in the hallway?"
Brienne blinked at him, once, twice, trying to find the sense in his words, when it suddenly struck her. It was about Aerys. He thought she would be ashamed to be seen with him, because of what happened between him and Aerys Targaryen, former captain in his team. Most people judged him because of it, called him Kingslayer and even Brienne had had her prejudices as she had met him. But as soon as she heard the truth behind the story, it all changed.
Aerys had been an amazing player and a good captain, earning him the title King. That had been before he turned crazy. He wanted to set the school on fire, burning everyone with him. Jaime was the only one who knew about it and he could only stop him by beating him up. Professor Ned Stark had found them later, calling an ambulance for Aerys, but did not listen to Jaime. Later everyone assumed that Jaime did it, because he wanted to be captain. Since then they always called him Kingslayer.
"Is it about Aerys?" she asked.
"Isn't it?" he asked back, still sounding angry. "Tell me, Brienne, what is this about?"
Brienne would have preferred not to talk about it, but she didn't want to let him think, that she still saw him as the Kingslayer. It hurt him as much as when someone called her Brienne The Beauty.
"It's not about Aerys. It's about -" She stopped and swallowed. How should she explain that? Jaime never had any insecurities about his looks. How could she make him understand what bothered her?Jaime frowned at her, seeming angrier every second that passed. With a racing heart, she took a deep breath. "It's because … because …" She swallowed again.
"Spill it out," he growled. "Say it or I walk out of that door and you won't have to bother to thing about any couple-thing again."
"It's because you are so much more beautiful than I am. Because nobody, not even me, can understand why you chose me when you could have any girl in the city. Probably in whole Westeros and Essos, too. Because when they would see us holding hands or kissing or having matching tattoos, they would look at us and pity you, because your girlfriend is ugly and manly and has a scar all over her face and you must have lost a bet to be together with her and -"
As soon as she had started talking, she just couldn't stop herself. It was his threat, that he would actual leave, that pulled the trigger. All her doubts and questions just poured out of her mouth, giving Jaime no time to speak at all.
Jaime, on the other hand, had just looked at her, his frown deepening with every word she said (Brienne didn't noticed it, being far too deep into her pool of self-pity). And because he did not like to be not able to speak, he shut her up with his own methods.
His kiss was fiercely and long, but Brienne still thought it was far too short and longed for more as his lips left hers. Unconsciously she reached out to pull him back, but he just put his hand on top of hers and looked her in the eyes.
"Listen to me, and listen closely, because I never ever want to repeat that," he said in a low, husky voice (which did not help Brienne to listen closely at all, but she tried it at least.) "I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks. And neither should you. I don't care about your looks. You could look like Sandor Clegane for all I care, and I wouldn't give a damn. If I wanted a beautiful girlfriend, I would have picked one of those freshmen-girls." Brienne winced at that and Jaime stroked his thumb over her scar. "I want you, Brienne, because you are you. And I'm proud to be your boyfriend, so if anyone tries to tell you, I'm dating you out of pity or because of a bet, I will fucking punch him in his face. Do you understand me?" Brienne nodded and Jaime kissed her again, softly. "And besides," he added, his lips almost touching hers. "If they think you're not beautiful, they have never looked you in the eyes."
This time it was Brienne who kissed him. Jaime didn't complained about it, she could even feel his smile, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to kiss him and to show him how much she loved him (because until now she never had the courage to put her feelings into words). Eagerly she tucked at the hoodie to pull him closer. Underneath her hands, Jaime chuckled and pulled away from her. In response she just growled, something that happened before she could stop it. This time Jaime laughed.
"Still want your hoodie back?" he asked and his eyes glittered. In Brienne's eyes he looked even more beautiful than ever.
"If you want it back," he almost whispered, took her hands into his and led them down to the hem of the hoodie. "Then take it off of me."
Brienne was absolutely sure that she had to look like a tomato. She knew what he meant, his grin was big enough to not leave any doubts, but she did not dislike to way of his thoughts. It was quite the opposite. "Margaery will come back soon."
"We can lock the door."
They did lock the door. And Brienne got her hoodie back.
A few days after their little argument about the hoodie, Jaime waited for her next to the fountain in front of the university. He had taken the hoodie to show her, that it was fine to do some of the cheesy couple-stuff. He surely hadn't dreamed about her spilling out all her insecurities about her looks and their relationship – and he definitely hadn't expected that ending of their argument.
Despite himself, Jaime smiled, before it turned into a frown. If he would ever find out, who gave Brienne the feeling, that he dated her out of pity, he would have a serious talk with that person. Or maybe not talk at all, but let his fists speak.
In the last days, Brienne tried to acknowledge their relationship more. Now she would at least smile when they passed each other in the hall, he was even allowed to hold her hand (it had been at night though and no one has been around … but still, they walked back to the dorms holding hands), and he met her after her training. Of course Jaime had not expected her to jump on him and kiss him right in front of everybody (that didn't mean he wouldn't fantasize about it though), but it was a start.
With a sigh, he took a look at his watch again. She was late, which was pretty unusual. They brought tickets for a game and both of them were quite excited to go. Just as he thought about calling her, he spotted his really tall girlfriend leaving the building.
For a second, he just stared at her.
It had to be her, because there was no other girl as tall as she at the university (or in all of Westeros). Still, Jaime thought he had to be mistaken. The weird part was, what she was wearing.
She wore a golden jumper with white letters saying Kingsguard all over her chest and Jaime would bet on it, that his name would be on the back in white letters as well. It was the jumper of his basketball-team (which he had loved when he just got into the team and he had basically lived in it then). Nowadays it was slightly too short for him to wear and he got a bit tired of wearing it, just because it lost part of its comfort.
On Brienne, the hoodie looked pretty tight. The sleeves were too short for her and she tucked on them every few seconds. But other than that, it was a actual quite pleasant change to her usual wide clothes. It hugged her body, showing of the small curve above her hips, stretching over her chest, making it look bigger.
But to be honest, Jaime wasn't really noticing it. He grinned like an idiot, solely for the reason, that she was wearing his hoodie.
"Mine," he said, as soon as she was close enough to hear him, and pointed at her.
"I know it's yours," she said, face bright red again. He liked it when he made her blush.
"Oh, I did not mean the hoodie."
Her face turned even redder and she pulled down the sleeves again.
"I-I thought you wouldn't mind," she mumbled, looking at her feet.
"I don't mind at all." He grinned and pulled her down for a kiss, right in front of everybody. She let him.
A/N: All characters and Jaime's quote (There are no men like me. Only me.) belong to GRRM. Thanks so much for all your nice reviews! I hope you enjoy this one as much as the other one :) I'm not quite sure what to think of their argument, so let me know what you think! Cheers!