After what has now been dubbed as The Incident by Arya (despite Gendry telling her to shut up and stop talking about it already), things surprisingly turn back to normal rather quickly. With only two weeks left until the wedding, there didn't seem to be any time left to stress over trivial things, something that Arya thanked her lucky stars for every day since Jon punched Gendry in the face.
It's a process to adjust to the idea of Gendry being her best friend and remembering that he was her boyfriend in public, but it's something she gets used to.
Sometimes, Arya wonders if she finds the balance a bit too easily. It's a thought that makes her nervous, but what can she possibly do? The whole point of this is to make people believe what they're selling.
It's the only thing she can think of to justify it in her mind. It, being her incredible ability to somehow blur the lines between friend and fake boyfriend while simply sitting across from each other in Starbucks. Not even touching. Not even looking at each other.
Gendry is busy on his phone, doing God knows what. Arya doesn't care enough to ask what he's doing.
Mostly because she, as Sansa's younger sister and maid of honor, is busy writing her speech. Despite pleading with Sansa, and begging her to let the responsibility fall on Margaery's shoulders—who would undoubtedly do a better job—Sansa refused to allow it.
"You do owe me," she had pointed out when Arya had asked her again this morning. "You spent the past month making me go absolutely crazy over finding you a date, and here you had a boyfriend of your very own hiding in plain sight. You owe me a speech. And it better be fantastic."
It was hard to argue with Sansa. She somehow always made the best points.
Sometimes Arya didn't even know why she bothered trying.
Sansa. Today, on your very special wedding day, I want to congratulate you on finally reaching the point you've been dreaming of since you were a little girl. Even at the young age of five, I can remember you, just two years older than me, talking to Mom about the dress you wanted to wear. You had the most high-pitched, girlish voice a child could have, but the way you spoke somehow sounded so grown-up, so sure of yourself. There's not a doubt in my mind that
She ripped the page out of her notebook and crumpled it up in a little ball. Gendry looked up at the harsh sound of paper tearing against the metal springs of the notebook and raised his eyebrows.
"Frustrated?" he asked, bringing his cup of coffee to his mouth and taking a sip. He'd been kind enough to buy Arya her own cup of coffee, though she'd tried her hardest to insist on getting a frappuccino. He'd refused, though, on account of the weather being impossibly cold, and the fact that she didn't need any more sugar in her system.
"Beyond frustrated," Arya grumbled, putting the cap back over her pen and setting it down on the open notebook. She looked down at the table, her eyes scanning the rather large pile of crumpled pieces of paper she'd acquired over the past hour and a half that they'd spent sitting here. "I just don't know what to write, and this...it really shouldn't be me up there giving that speech," she said quietly, not able to meet Gendry's eyes. "You don't have to sit here, you know. I don't even know why you decided to come along today."
It was true—she hadn't invited him. He'd texted her earlier that morning asking if she wanted to hang out, but she'd only told him that she was going to Starbucks to work on her speech. Next thing she knew, he was texting her to be ready in ten minutes for him to come to pick her up.
"Hey, I wanted to come along," he said, shrugging his shoulders casually. "Nothing makes my day better than seeing you struggle over something as simple as writing a speech."
His attempts at humor did nothing to cheer her up like he'd hoped they would. Instead, his words only made Arya frown harder. The words struggle and simple kept clanging around in her mind.
As if she needed another reminder of how bad she was at this.
As if she needed another reminder of how she'd inevitably embarrass herself at Sansa's wedding.
"Sorry," Gendry apologized softly. "That was a dick thing to say. I know that this isn't an easy thing to do—even more for you. I know you aren't all that great with getting all your feelings out."
"No," Arya sighed, "I suppose I'm not, huh?"
"It's okay, you know," he said. "I'm sure that no matter what you say, Sansa will appreciate your speech all the same. There's nothing you could say that would actually disappoint her."
"I doubt that. This is her wedding day, and she left me with this...responsibility that I just can't handle, and I..."
Gendry reached across their small table and touched his fingers to her wrist, causing her to look up and meet his gaze. "Hey," he urged. "She wouldn't have asked this of you if she didn't think you were going to do an amazing job."
Arya snorted. "Yep, that's Sansa. Always thinking ten steps ahead and wondering what option would make her day go just like she'd planned." It was a mean thing to say, and she knew it even as the words were coming out, but she couldn't help it.
"That's not fair, Arya. You know that's not what I meant. Sansa asked this of you not because she wanted it to make all her guests think how perfect her wedding was. She asked this of you because she knew that you'd be able to reach down deep and get your real thoughts on that piece of paper."
They both looked down at the blank piece of paper waiting for Arya to start scribbling away on. After a few more beats of silence, Gendry continued. "Okay, maybe not that specific piece of paper, but you know what I mean."
He was grinning hopefully at her, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.
It worked; Arya cracked a smile.
It was small, but it was noticeable. Gendry considered it a win.
"See, you're smiling. That means your mood is improving. Which means you should be able to write at least a few sentences you don't hate."
Arya bit her lip. "I don't know..." She glanced at the pile of balled up papers again and felt that twinge of anxiety rush through her once more.
"Hey, if it helps," Gendry started, "I'll read over whatever you write next. Now that you have someone who could proofread it, you'll actually feel encouraged to write something you think I'll approve of, which means you'll be in the right mindset to write something good."
Arya looked up at him incredulously, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Did you take some kind of psychology class that I didn't know about?" she joked. But joking was good. Joking meant that she was feeling better, more upbeat. Her mood shifting to something more lighthearted meant that she could write something appropriate for her maid of honor speech.
Huh. Look at that. Gendry Waters, right about something at last.
Gendry knew exactly what he was doing, but for once, he decided against rubbing it in her face that he was right about something. Instead, he just took a sip of his coffee and waited for her to get started on a new draft.
( O O O )
The next morning, Arya woke up feeling surprisingly light on her feet. She wasn't used to opening her eyes and feeling like this. Not that she woke up in a bad mood every day, but...today, it was as if she woke up and experienced what it was like to have a good morning. She swung her legs over the side of her bed and walked to the bathroom, quickly brushing her teeth.
By the time she got downstairs twenty minutes later, her hair wet from the shower and feeling comfortable in the sweats and tank top she'd donned, her mood instantly dropped the second she saw Sansa sitting at the kitchen island, her wedding binder splayed open in front of her.
When Sansa heard Arya coming down the stairs, she brightened and smiled at her. "Oh, good. You're up. I let myself in about a half hour ago, but I didn't want to wake anybody."
Arya glared at the wedding binder. She had seen too much of that over the past few months. "No one wants to be woken up. It's Saturday."
She knew exactly what was coming, and she was dreading every second of it.
Sansa grinned at her like she knew what was going through Arya's head. Which, of course, she did. "Well, it's a good thing you always have a free schedule on Saturdays. Because we're getting the final details of my wedding settled today."
Arya groaned before Sansa had even finished her sentence. "Sansa, no! It's my day off—"
"You don't even work."
There really wasn't any response Arya could come up with to fight that.
( O O O )
Gendry: Do you want to catch a movie or something? I'm bored today.
Arya perked up at the text and let out a triumphant laugh.
Sansa looked up from the binder and peered at Arya's phone. "No," she said simply before Arya even realized she had been looking at the text.
Arya made a noise of frustration, one of the many she'd forced out in the past two hours they'd been sitting there. "Sansa, come on. My boyfriend wants to take me out to a movie. You can't actually be thinking of begrudging me the time I could be spending with the man I'm dating."
"Um, that's exactly what I'm thinking of," Sansa said, clicking her pen and circling the number of her florist in bright red. There were several colors spread out before them: Red for bills that needed to be paid, purple for confirmation of appointments and dates, blue for final RSVPs on Willas's side of the guest list, and pink for Sansa's side.
Sansa's checklist looked like a six-year-old had gotten their hands in some markers and started circling whatever they could with whatever colors they found. And yet, her wedding was probably the most well-organized event Arya would ever be a part of. While Sansa had spent the past two hours circling numbers that she needed to call and finalizing payments and arrival times, Arya had been tasked with crossing out everything that was finally finished.
"Come on, Sansa," Arya begged. "Have a heart. Let me spend some time with Gendry."
"Sorry," Sansa said without looking up from the page she was turning, "I'm too busy pouring my heart into my vows. I don't have any compassion left."
"Oh?" Arya replied. "Is that how it'll be from now on? Now that you'll be married, you're just going to abandon your family because you won't have any compassion left for us?" She raised her eyebrows accusingly, but Sansa still wasn't looking up at her. "Wow, Sansa. That's really nice of you. I always thought you were the best sibling out of all of us, but you just love to prove me wrong at every chance you get—"
"You can invite him over to help if you want, but you're not leaving this house until I can finally throw out this binder."
It was probably the best offer she'd get.
"Well, then I won't be leaving this house until the day after your wedding," Arya grumbled as she picked up her phone. She texted Gendry a quick message to get his ass over here to save her from dying of boredom.
Only twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the front door, and Arya rushed over to get it.
Gendry was standing on the other side, holding out a brown paper bag for her to take. Hesitantly, Arya reached out and took it from him, the scent of something sweet and sugary wafting from the bag.
Inside were two cinnamon buns, somehow still warm.
"You're a god among men, Gendry Waters," she breathed, hugging the bag against her chest. "Please tell me they're both for me."
"Had one in the car on the way here. They're all yours."
Arya didn't bother offering one of them to Sansa. They both knew she had been keeping herself on a strict and solid meal plan to make sure she didn't gain or lose any noticeable weight in order to keep the measurements for her dress perfectly steady.
Arya looked over her shoulder towards the kitchen where Sansa still sat, trying to look like she wasn't casually spying on them. Arya quickly glanced back at Gendry with a silent question in her eyes. He only responded by leaning down and placing a swift kiss on her lips, drawing back smoothly and heading towards the kitchen.
"You two are so cute," Sansa said as if she had just glanced up and seen them kissing rather than waiting to see if they would do it in her presence.
Arya reclaimed her seat while Gendry took one beside her. "Enjoy the show, Sansa," she responded simply.
"So, what are you guys even doing right now?" Gendry asked, pulling the binder towards him.
Both Sansa and Arya slapped his hand away from the binder, and he yanked it back with a shout of indignation. "Ouch! What was that for?"
"You do not touch the Binder," Sansa ordered, narrowing her eyes threateningly at Gendry.
"Wow," he whistled, rubbing at his hand. "I can practically hear the capital B in that sentence."
Arya laughed. "Trust me, Gendry. You don't want to mess with Sansa's wedding binder. She's discarded the Bible in exchange for it. It's her new Holy Book." She got a glare of her own from Sansa, but she only smiled innocently.
"This isn't a joke," Sansa replied. "You know, Gendry, I was going to let you just sit there and keep Arya company, but now that you've mocked the Binder, I'm putting you to work."
"Um, no."
"Um, yes."
"Sansa, I want this wedding to go exactly as you planned. But just because I want that for you, doesn't mean I'll contribute to it."
"You began contributing the moment you started dating my sister. Now sit your ass back down. You're taking over the calls."
Arya was watching the exchange with absolute glee on her face, not even bothering to hide it as she took bite after bite of her cinnamon bun.
Gendry and Sansa looked at each other for a few seconds more, silence stretching out between them as Arya chewed as quietly as possible. Finally, Gendry let out a resigned sigh and sat back down, his hand going for the phone.
Sansa nodded once, a pleased little smile decorating her pretty face. "That's what I thought," she said with a knowing look. "Here are the numbers you need to call. All you have to do is say you're calling about the Tyrell-Stark wedding to confirm the time each item should be arriving at the Plaza. I've put the dates and times everything is expected to be there, so just look for those. You can use Willas's name if you want."
When Sansa got into a rhythm, she really did get into it. It was honestly impressive.
Gendry nodded rapidly as if Sansa was a military officer and he was her newest recruit.
Arya cocked her head at Sansa. "Are you trying to get my boyfriend whipped before I get the chance to do it myself?" she asked accusingly.
Sansa smiled innocently. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."
( O O O )
It was another hour and a half before Sansa finally called it quits and shut the wedding binder. Gendry let the phone clatter to the counter without saying goodbye to the makeup artist on the other line before hanging up, and Arya let out a sigh of relief as she threw her pen down.
"It's about time," she said, taking a look at Sansa. She looked impossibly tired, her face drained and pale. "You deserve a break more than any of us do. I can't believe you decided to do this all by yourself instead of just hiring a wedding planner."
Sansa gave her a look. "Please," she said, rolling her eyes. "Me, giving up control over the one day I've been looking forward to since I was a little girl? I don't think so. I'd write Willas's vows, Dad's toast, and your speech if I could."
"Well, you're still more than welcome to write my speech for me," Arya told her, standing up from her chair.
"Don't be like that, Arya. I'm sure your speech is coming along great."
"It actually is," Gendry piped up as he stretched languidly. "I read what Arya managed to write yesterday and told her to keep it."
That was a bald-faced lie. Despite the good mood Arya had been in when she began writing her speech again yesterday, it had quickly dissolved as she steadily slipped back into that eternal state of displeasure no matter what she put on paper. Even as Gendry told her that what she had was sweet, Arya still crumpled it up and threw it in the trash as she accused it of being too rehearsed.
It should've been a wonder why she woke up in such a good mood this morning, but she knew the real reason.
It was because she got to spend more time in a day with Gendry than she usually managed, and it left her feeling...nice.
She really needed to get a grasp on the reality of her situation.
"See? Gendry says your speech is going great. I look forward to hearing it at the wedding." Sansa began gathering her things as she stood up.
"Wait," Arya said, putting a hand on her arm to stop her. "What do you mean, hearing it at the wedding? You're not going to read it over beforehand to tell me if it's good or not?"
Sansa snorted and put the binder in her bag before zipping it shut and slinging it over her shoulder. "No," she replied like it was obvious.
"Why not?"
"Because then I wouldn't have an honest reaction to it. It would be too...rehearsed. Too fake. I want everything about it to be one hundred percent real."
"Sansa, come on—"
Sansa leaned in and kissed Arya on the cheek as a goodbye. She headed to Gendry and gave him a kiss on the cheek as well before going towards the door. "You'll be fine. Just keep working on the speech. Give it to more than one person for some extra feedback. Gendry's pretty biased, anyway, as your boyfriend."
Arya opened her mouth to continue the conversation, scrambling for a way to convince Sansa otherwise, but she cut her off before she even got a word out.
"I have to get back to Willas. We're going apartment hunting. Our lease on our apartment is almost up and we want to buy a place to be ready to move in by our first anniversary."
And with that, Sansa gave them a small wave and shut the door behind her.
The second she was out the door, Arya rounded on Gendry. "You shouldn't have lied to her about my speech," she said angrily. "If I had told her I was still struggling with it, maybe she would have stayed and helped me through it."
"That wouldn't have happened and you know it. First, she said she wanted everything to be real at the wedding. Second, she was halfway out the door anyway. Third, don't try to put this on me that you're too nervous about your speech—you need to have more faith in yourself, or else it'll never go the way either of you wants it to."
Arya squinted at him. "There you go again, giving me the psychology bullshit again."
"It's not bullshit," Gendry said as he dropped a kiss on her forehead. "It's the truth. Now, do you still want to catch a movie today or not, because I just lost a few hours of my day repeating myself to like, twenty different places and companies, and I could use some relaxation."
Arya's skin was still tingling from the kiss he'd bestowed upon her forehead, and it was distracting her from speaking.
"Um, I think I'll pass today. I'm just gonna take it easy today, but thanks. Maybe I'll come over tomorrow or something. I'll talk to you later."
Her skin didn't stop tingling for the rest of the day.
( O O O )
Arya made good on her promise and showed up at Gendry's apartment the next day with a box of pizza balanced on the palm of one of her hands, while the other hand tried to hold a large bottle of Sprite, her car keys, and her phone at the same time.
Gendry stared at her for a few seconds incredulously before Arya let out a grunt of frustration and he was put into motion. "How did you even knock?" he asked as he took the pizza box out of her hand and left the door open for her to kick closed once she'd made it inside.
"I kicked at it," Arya replied. "Did that sound like my fist knocking at your door?"
"Can't tell the difference," he admitted. "You always sound like you're about to break my door down no matter what part of your body you're using to do it."
Arya ignored the dig and waltzed into the apartment, throwing herself onto the couch and settling beside the pizza box that Gendry had placed in between the two of them. They ate together in silence, but it wasn't awkward. Arya didn't feel like she was being forced to fill every minute with cacophony, whether it was with mild conversation or making a pointless commotion. There was perhaps no other person she could sit with, in complete silence, and not feel a type of pressure on her shoulders. It was a relief to be able to sit with Gendry, eating pizza and occasionally taking sips from their cups of sodas.
Maybe that was why Gendry was the person she felt the most comfortable with, no matter what.
"You know," Gendry said after he'd finished two slices and passed the box over to Arya, who was still slowly working on her first. "I was hanging out with Jon and Robb the other day, and I don't know if there's any going back once...this is over." He waved his hand between the two of them for emphasis, and Arya looked up from the crust she was nibbling on.
She ripped off a piece and popped it in her mouth, curling her legs up under her on the couch. "Meaning?"
"Meaning that they weren't...as open as usual."
"Once again," Arya began, "meaning?"
"Well, okay, Jon was talking about how Ygritte had spent the night at his place last night—"
"Okay, I'm just going to ask you to stop right now if this story involves any kind of sex that has to do with my brother—"
"Relax," Gendry said, putting a finger to Arya's lips. "I'm just saying, that there were some points the other night where I felt like they were...distancing themselves from me. And I think it has to do with you."
Arya tried not to let that last sentence get to her, and shrugged her shoulders casually. "Well, it could have something to do with the fact that they might want to talk about whatever...stuff they do with their significant others, and you're supposed to be dating me, their younger sister. And considering that you got punched in the face by Jon a few days ago because he thought we were sleeping together when he walked in on us, they probably don't want to get involved in any kind of conversation that could lead to you speaking about that."
Gendry stayed quiet. His silence stretched on and on, and now, for the first time ever, it was starting to make Arya feel uncomfortable.
"Do you regret what we're doing?" she asked. "Because, you know, our contract says if you want to back out at any time, you're more than welcome to do it. I know it's not a legally binding contract or anything, but I won't go back on my word."
He shook his head. "No. No, that's not what I'm saying. I wouldn't go back on my word to you. Besides, there are only two weeks left until the wedding. And a few more days of pretending after that so nothing looks suspicious. It's just...weird. I mean, do you think this is weird?"
Arya could literally feel her head spinning. She wasn't entirely sure if Gendry was trying to tell her that this was a bad idea, or if he was telling her that he would just continue to go along with it. Either way, he didn't seem to be having a good time with their little arrangement, and it only made her feel sad. Sad enough that she was about to call it quits herself.
"Listen, Gendry, it sounds like you're not...feeling this whole thing. I don't want to push you into doing something you don't want to do."
He looked up at her, surprised. As if he was shocked that she had even mentioned breaking their deal. How could he be so oblivious to not see that the way he was speaking only made Arya think he was regretting signing his name next to hers?
"How did you even get that idea from what I said?" he asked.
Arya just stared at him until he finally spoke again.
"Okay," Gendry began, nodding his head, "so maybe I thought it would be different to actually do this. I wasn't expecting Jon or Robb to treat me any differently, which is completely stupid, because I've heard them say they wanted to punch Edric like, seven times. And that was when you guys were actually dating. And that's no different from how they talked about your other boyfriends, either. They've always been protective over you. It just feels weird because I know it's fake, and you know it's fake, and I forget that everyone else doesn't know it's fake. Does that make sense?"
She did understand what he was saying because Arya was feeling the same thing. She'd be texting one of her friends and Sansa would always ask if she was texting her boyfriend. Whenever she was halfway out the door, Catelyn would stop her and tell her to say hi to Gendry for her. Sometimes it took her a moment to remember that they were supposed to be dating, and she was always confused for two seconds when everyone just assumed she was always texting him, or calling him, or going out with him.
But in the end, she guessed that was a good thing. A good thing, because if she wasn't losing herself in this fantasy of her and Gendry actually being together, then she wasn't losing herself in the risk of being hurt by her best friend.
( O O O )
There's a bouquet of flowers waiting for Arya when she gets downstairs the next morning.
Ned is sitting at the table, where the flowers have been put down. He's drinking coffee, very slowly, and the moment Arya comes downstairs, he puts the mug down and beckons her closer. Immediately, Arya wants to punch Gendry for whatever it was that he did. Whatever fluttery, lightheaded feeling Arya would have experienced at the sight of those pink roses had no chance of surfacing when she saw the look on her father's face.
That was probably a good thing. If Arya was being truthful with herself, even she could admit to that.
It wasn't an I'm about to have the sex talk with you kind of look. It was more like a We need to talk about this brand new boyfriend of yours kind of look. Which, honestly, Arya would rather go through the sex talk with her dad for the second time.
"Morning, Dad," Arya says wearily as she pointedly looks away from the hand that's telling her to come to sit down.
"Morning, Arya," Ned replies conversationally. "Want to come sit over here and have a talk?"
Arya turns around to face him and pretends to think about it. "You know, I would love to sit and chat, but I think Sansa might need my help with some stuff. Plus, I just woke up and all I've managed to do so far is brush my teeth. I would really love to eat breakfast."
"Well, isn't it convenient that I'm sitting at the table for you to join me?"
She hadn't just walked into that one—She'd really just damn near thrown herself right into it.
With a tight smile, Arya nodded once. "Sure. Just let me get myself some cereal." For some reason, Catelyn seemed to think her three remaining kids living at home were five years old, and always bought an abundance of cereal so they had, as she liked to put it, options.
At least staring at all the colorful boxes in the pantry allowed her to waste some time as she decided what she wanted.
By the time she'd settled on a bowl of Fruity Pebbles, Ned had finished his coffee and was holding the bouquet of pink roses. Pink, not red, because Gendry had probably figured out by now that she thought they were a cliche. Not that pink was any better, but, you know. Irony.
"I found these on the doorstep this morning," Ned said, passing them over to her. Arya sat down in the seat next to the one where Ned was in at the head of the table and took the bouquet in her own hands. The plastic crackled under her fingers as she looked for the card that was sure to be there. Gendry wouldn't have sent these without putting in some message to reduce the cheesiness of the gesture.
"I already found the card," he said, holding it up. "I didn't know who they were for, so I checked."
Arya took the card out of his hands and closed her eyes.
"I do believe it says, what is it, again?" Ned asks, peering over the top of the card. "Sorry for being a dick yesterday. I'll make up for it tonight with a surprise. Pick you up at 7:30 pm sharp. Not just my apartment again, I promise."
Oh. So maybe this was going to be a sex talk again.
Arya tried to keep her face smooth as she set down the flowers in exchange for her spoon, and began shoveling a spoonful of Fruity Pebbles into her mouth. "You know," she observed, "I don't think I've ever heard you say the word dick before."
Ned smiled just slightly, but it faded rather quickly. "Arya, I've been...watching you this past week. Since your mother told me you were with Gendry. And as your father, I think it's my right to ask you certain...questions."
"Dad, if you're about to ask what I think you're about to ask—"
"Does he make you happy?"
Arya stopped short, the question dying on her tongue as it was halfway out of her mouth. It wasn't the question she was expecting. Not that she thought her own father wouldn't care if his daughter was happy with her boyfriend, but she couldn't remember Ned ever asking her if she was happy when she was with any of her other boyfriends. But his face was completely straight, no hint of a joke hiding in his expression, no glimpse of a second question following this one. All he did was sit there, waiting for her answer.
"What?"
"I said, does he make you happy? I've seen you with the boys you date, Arya, and I know you like to think so, but you aren't exactly talented at keeping your thoughts hidden. I could always tell if there was a problem, but now I don't know."
"Why is that a bad thing?" Arya asked.
"Because when Edric would get you upset about something, I'd see it in the way you slammed the front door on your way into the house. When he did something that made you happy, I'd see it when you kissed his cheek after he did it. When you were bored with him, you would always keep looking at him like you were waiting for him to glance at you and see that you wanted something to do. But with Gendry, I haven't been able to see any of that. And I don't know if it's because you're trying to hide that it's going in a bad direction, but I want to know."
Arya wondered how often Ned had thought about this over the past week. And those flowers, with Gendry's stupid card, must have made him believe that something actually was going wrong. But it was nothing that he could fix because this was a mess that Arya had made on her own and it was one that she needed to deal with without letting anyone know what was truly wrong. She couldn't tell her father the real issue, because the real issue was that she was only falling deeper into her feelings for Gendry that she had sworn were no longer there. The real issue was that she felt lost in his apartment when it used to be a place she would escape to, to find comfort. The real issue was that he made sure to remind her at every turn that their relationship was fake, and that nothing real would ever really come of it. And the worst part of all of that was that she couldn't even say anything about it to him because that's what they had agreed on. Gendry had sent the flowers as a joke—a gesture her family would see as romantic, but when Arya would catch sight of the card, she'd laugh about the silliness of it all. Except that's not what happened.
"I am...still new to this whole thing with Gendry," Arya started off slowly. "I'm still getting used to the idea of him as something other than my best friend. And it's an adjustment. Maybe that's why you feel like you haven't seen any emotions on my face because if you want me to tell you the truth, I'm not even sure what my emotions are right now. It's weird adjusting to this thing with him because we aren't completely sure what this thing is."
And wasn't that the truth, she thought mournfully.
Ned didn't seem to find any comfort in her answer. "Arya, I'm not sure if this whole dating Gendry thing is a good idea."
"Dad, I like him, and I like him a lot, and it scares me a little," she said suddenly, and the force of her own voice shocked her.
It appeared to have shocked Ned, too. He met her eyes with surprise sparking across her face, and she knew why. She'd come home several times mentioning casually that she had a boyfriend, but never had she affirmed with such sincerity that her feelings ran deeper than everyone thought they did.
"Why does that scare you?" he asked.
Arya closed her eyes, trying to force down the voice inside her head telling her she needed to shut the hell up. If she didn't get this out, then it would eat her alive for the next month that she had to keep doing this.
"Because. I dated Edric for a year, and it was like we were going out on our first date every single time we saw each other. I've been dating Gendry for a month now, and it feels different. And I'm just not used to it."
Ned was silent, staring down at his empty coffee mug with a concentrated look on his face. He seemed to be pondering her words, replaying them again and again in his head, and Arya loved her father so much in that moment of protectiveness that she stood up and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck.
"Now," Arya said, pulling back from her hug, "I am going to put my roses in some water, text Sansa to make sure my appointment for my final dress fitting is set in place, and go have lunch with my sister so she doesn't start to really lose her mind in the midst of her final weeks as a single woman."
( O O O )
"I don't think I appreciate being your second choice," Jon said as he speared a piece of meat with his fork.
Arya shrugged her shoulders as she chewed on her own steak, not backing down from the accusing stare he sent her way. "Well, I don't appreciate you punching my boyfriend in the face, but here we are."
"So my punishment for punching Gendry in the face after walking in on him finishing sex with you is...going out to lunch with you because Sansa couldn't make it?" Jon asked in an innocent tone, quickly slapping away Arya's fork as she tried to hit him with it.
"God, would you give it a rest, already? We weren't having sex, how many times do I have to tell you that for you to believe me?" Arya groaned. She was getting sick of the piercing look Jon always gave her when she saw him as if he could tell whether or not she had sex just by staring resolutely at her.
"Sorry, Arya, but I've been friends with Gendry a lot longer than you've been dating him. I know a thing or two about how he works with girls he dates."
Was that anger she detected in his voice? Arya quickly jumped on a chance to rectify whatever argument could follow before it had the chance to explode into an all-out fight in the middle of a steakhouse.
"And you've been my brother for a hell of a lot longer than you've been friends with him. So, by that logic, you should know by now that if I sleep with someone, I don't care enough about your opinion to hide it from you. That being said, I'm not going to shout it from the rooftops, but if I tell you I didn't do anything, you should have the decency to, believe me, thank you very much."
Jon didn't have the decency to believe her when she insisted on something the first time, but at least he had the decency to flush with embarrassment when she told him off yet again about his overreaction.
"Okay, so maybe he didn't deserve to be punched—"
"Maybe?"
"He literally asked me to punch him, Arya."
"No one ever said Gendry was smart. I think we both know that your best friend is an idiot at this point and there's nothing we can do about that."
"Um, he's your boyfriend. Accept the fact that you're dating an idiot, and that's far worse than him being my best friend."
"I reject that logic."
"Because you know I'm right?"
"Because you're being just as much of an idiot as Gendry is."
Jon's mouth dropped. "Take that back. I've never heard you compare someone's idiocy to the likes of Gendry."
"Well, there's a first time for everything."
"And when, exactly, was yours and Gendry's?"
"Jon!"
"Can you blame me for trying to use rapid conversation to get you to admit to the thing that I am still one hundred percent convinced happened before I walked in on you guys in his apartment?"
Arya smiled pityingly at him and patted his arm comfortingly. "It was a good effort, but I'm not about to spill all of my relationship secrets to you. Sorry." Somehow, even when she had no relationship to keep secrets about, she still had plenty of things to hide.
The whole thing was maddening. By the end of it, Arya was sure she would be emptying out the bottle of Advil Catelyn kept in her medicine cabinet in the bathroom.
"You should want to tell me all of your secrets," Jon countered. "I'm your big brother."
"It just sounds like you listed yet another reason why I shouldn't tell you all of my secrets."
"So you admit that there are secrets you're keeping?"
Arya cocked her head to one side, looking closely at Jon for a few moments before leaning back in her chair. "Of course I am," she said as easily as possible, pushing a cherry tomato around her plate with her fork. She didn't care about the rave reviews this restaurant got—this pathetic salad they'd put on the side of her steak wasn't doing a thing for her.
"You never used to keep secrets from me before," Jon observed. "Before, when you were dating Edric or even that dancer guy, you told me stuff."
"The dancer guy had a name, and it was Daniel," Arya said. "And if you think I told you everything, you're wrong."
"You didn't tell me everything?" Jon sounded genuinely hurt, the shock of hearing this coming through his voice.
Arya bit her lip. "Did you think I did? The only reason you're asking questions and doubting me now is that this is Gendry and you're actually his friend."
"What does that have to do with anything? I'm asking because I know something else is going on."
"No, you're asking because you're paranoid. And you're paranoid because Gendry told you all about his old girlfriends or whatever they were—and don't give me that look, I know about all of them. And now he's not. So you're suspicious."
Jon folded his arms and squinted his eyes at her as if he could detect any lies coming from her just by staring at her.
"You know," he said after a few beats of tense silence, "you're more perceptive than people give you credit for."
Arya shrugged, feeling like that was becoming her default reaction to everything these days, and took a sip of water. "That's not the first time I've heard that from someone." She winked at Jon from across the table and smiled at him.
( O O O )
"Who sent flowers?"
Arya looked over her shoulder at her nightstand, where the pink roses sat in a vase she'd borrowed from her mother's collection. "Hello, Sansa," she greeted.
"Hello, Arya." Sansa leaned in and kissed Arya on the cheek before walking into her room and sitting down in the chair by her dresser. "Who sent flowers?"
"Why are you asking when you already know the answer?"
"Because I don't know the answer. As far as I know, Gendry Waters doesn't have a romantic bone in his body."
"Well, that's a lie. He's extremely romantic."
Sansa's eyebrows rose, her interest piqued. "Oh? How romantic?"
Arya gave Sansa a look and shook her head mockingly as she sat down on her bed, crossing her legs in a pretzel. "Don't try that on me. I already have Jon down my throat because he's convinced we're sleeping together," she said.
"Oh, yeah. I heard about the whole...punching thing," Sansa said, waving her hand across her face for emphasis.
"At least there's no real mark. It was just red for a little bit."
"Aw, you helped him heal from his wounds afterward?" Sansa crooned.
Arya sighed. "Yeah, and I had to use a Ziploc bag filled with ice cubes because he doesn't even have frozen peas or anything like that. His freezer is basically empty—it's sad."
"Oh, is your relationship already at the stage of you pushing him to eat what you tell him, do what you say, and act how you like?"
Arya looked over at her sister with raised eyebrows and scoffed. "Why are you in such a...sassy mood today? Did you magically go up a size overnight and your wedding dress doesn't fit anymore?"
Sansa fixed Arya with her own dark look. "Um, that's not even funny as a joke, Arya. This is serious. My wedding is not some kind of joke you can laugh at whenever you feel like, or whenever I get tense about something and you decide to crack a joke about how I'm turning into Bridezilla or whatever mean nickname you come up with in that endless arsenal of yours—"
"Woah, Sansa," Arya said, standing up from her bed and walking over to her sister. She put her hands on her shoulders and forced her to meet her eyes. "Relax. I'm not making jokes. But after your rather impressive rant, you can't blame me for asking—is everything actually okay? Or are you just getting nervous because the wedding is coming up sooner than you thought?"
Sansa opened her mouth and made a few false starts to a reply, but no sound came out.
"I just—" she choked out, but then cut herself off as she looked down at her feet. Arya waited as patiently as she could for her go on. "The wedding is in February," Sansa said finally, monotonously.
Arya waited for her to continue, but no other words came out of her mouth. "Okay, the wedding is in February," she repeated after two minutes of silence from Sansa. Sansa looked up at her but she didn't speak, so Arya pulled her to feet and brought her over to the bed. "The wedding is in February," Arya said again. "What's so bad about that?"
It was the question that broke the dam, and all of Sansa's words came out in a sudden rush like water bursting through. "It's just...it's February, and it's so cold outside. What was I thinking? People will be freezing, and then the whole wedding will be ruined because if everyone is too cold, then they won't be dancing, and if they don't dance, then everyone is just sitting in their seats, and that means no one is having a good time because everyone knows that the only time you're supposed to sit down at the wedding is when you're eating or making toasts, or else it means no one is having a good time."
It was the outburst Arya had been waiting for. Too long, Sansa had pushed down all of her worries about this. Honestly, she was relieved it was coming out now, even though it was happening a bit closer to the special day than she had thought it would.
"Okay, Sansa," she started, sitting down on the bed and crossing her legs again. "The Plaza has a heating system. And I can guarantee that everyone will be dancing because you guys got the best band, but I don't think this is about the month you chose, is it?"
Sansa looked up at Arya from under her lashes, her head still bowed low. "I don't want to make a mistake I'm going to regret for the rest of my life," she whispered, and Arya opened her mouth immediately to shut that idea down, but Sansa cut her off before a word escaped her lips. "I've been sure of Willas for so long, but it was like he proposed out of nowhere, and we planned the wedding so fast—"
"Sansa, where is all of this coming from? Why now?"
She finally lifted her head and met Arya's eyes. "We got into a fight yesterday," she said, her voice lowering considerably as if it was a shameful secret to admit. "About the wedding. And I walked out. I slept at Margaery's last night."
Arya's eyes widened, but she tried to keep her reactions under control. It would do no help to Sansa if she overreacted. "Why were you guys fighting about the wedding last night?" she asked.
"He told me that I was trying to make it too big. Too much, he said. He told me that it was like I was trying to throw it in everyone's faces that even though I wasn't with the person I had dated for so many years, I could still have my happily ever after, and make all the guests jealous of me at the same time."
"Sansa, that's—"
"No, Arya, he's right. From the beginning, I've told everyone I just want Willas, but I want to show everyone how happy I am, too. No one...no one else knows about what happened when Joffrey and I were together. And that's more than fine; it's not anyone's business but my own. I told other people because I thought they had a right to know. But everyone else thinks our relationship just fell apart and the way that I...closed myself off for months after, they all thought I was broken over it. And I want them to see how unbroken I am. I want them all to see how I got it all in the end."
Arya sat back, pushing herself up the bed so she could lean against her headboard as she looked closely at Sansa. "Sansa, that's not...that's not something to be ashamed of. I've never seen a person as angry as you be so...kind at the same time. And don't try to deny it, Sansa, you are angry, and you have every right to be. But you've put all of that anger into turning yourself into a better person than what he made you feel like you were. If anyone deserves to be angry...it's you."
Sansa had tears in her eyes, but she looked like she was trying her hardest to keep them from falling.
"I just...I don't want him to think that that is the only reason I agreed to marry him. Because...I've never felt that kind of love for someone. It's like he was there at the worst time in my life for a reason."
Arya sighed and sat up. "So maybe you should be telling that to him instead of me. Tell him everything you just told me. I've seen a lot of relationships, Sansa, but I've never seen one like yours with Willas. Mom and Dad, Jon and Ygritte, Robb and Jeyne...they don't have the same kind of bond that you guys do. Not after the way he helped you for so long."
"You really think that?"
Arya snorted, causing Sansa to laugh once, the sound getting stuck in her throat through the tears that still hadn't fallen yet. "Are you kidding? I wish someone would care about me the way Willas cares about you."
"What, Gendry doesn't care about you?" Sansa asked. "I know you guys haven't been going out for a long time, but you've been friends for years."
Arya froze and looked down at her blanket. "He does," she said, wanting to kick herself for making such a stupid mistake. "But not...I mean, you guys are in love."
Sansa laughed. "Arya, I hate to break it to you, but I think Gendry's half in love with you if he isn't already. You should have seen the way he was looking at you when I made him help me with those phone calls. You had your head down the entire time, but every time he had to wait on hold, or someone hung up, he'd go right back to looking at you."
Arya shook her head rapidly. "No, he's not that kind of—"
"What? Not that kind of guy? The kind who likes to look at the girl he's dating."
"Just because he looks at me doesn't mean he's in love with me," Arya said, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back against her headboard again to bring her knees up close to her chest. "Trust me, we...we definitely aren't there yet. We aren't at that point right now."
"Yeah, well, that point may come a lot sooner than you think," Sansa told her meaningfully.
"I'm sorry, do you have a handbook for this?" Arya asked sarcastically.
Sansa rolled her eyes and shrugged. "There's no such thing as a handbook when it comes to loving someone, or even liking someone. There are no rules, there are no steps, and there definitely isn't a specific step by step process describing how it's all gotta go down. You just have to kind of make it up as you go along."
"Is that you and Willas did?" Arya asked quietly, almost shyly like she was afraid to ask that question.
Sansa looked over at Arya and, after a few hesitant beats, she nodded. "Yeah. That's exactly what we did. We just made everything up as we dated. We didn't decide when would be the appropriate time to tell other people outside our families when we were dating, we didn't talk about when we would...sleep together for the first time, we didn't discuss marriage before he asked me to be his wife. Everything we did just kind of came along naturally, and I know you think some of those things are big steps that you have to discuss first, but Willas and I have always been on the same page with these things. We somehow always knew it was the right time."
"You've always been on the same page?"
"Yeah. Kind of like how you and Gendry are somehow always in sync, even when you guys aren't even in the same place."
Arya stayed quiet, still staring at her blanket as she took in Sansa's words. If she was to be believed, which there was no reason she shouldn't be believed, then Gendry was looking at her. No big deal, but...there was a part of Arya's brain that was just aching to know what he thought when he did look at her. A part of her that desperately wanted to know if he was thinking about her in the same way she thought of him.
"I'm...I'm really happy for you, Arya," Sansa continued, not realizing that Arya was going through what she believed to be a midlife crisis at the tender age of twenty-three. "You deserve to be with someone who cares about you as much as Gendry does."
She couldn't take it anymore. "Yeah, but I'm not sure if we're going to last," she blurted out. As soon as the words were out there in the open, she wanted to grab them and shove them back down her throat.
Sansa's eyebrows rose and she blinked once. Twice. "What do you mean, you don't think you're going to last?"
"I just...I just don't think this is going to work out. Me and Gendry, we aren't...going to work out."
"Look, Arya, now I'm not sure what you're saying, and I definitely don't know what's going on in your own private life or your relationship with him, but I...I want this to work out for you. I'm not saying you have to marry him and become his wife and have his babies or anything like that, but it's only been a month. Actually, I don't count the time you kept it a secret from all of us. It's been, like, a week since your relationship has actually been known to people, and I know everyone is giving you shit for it because it's new and it's sudden, but we all think Gendry's been pretty good for you. You can...completely ignore my advice right now and break up with him if there are certain aspects of your relationship that I don't know about and I respect your boundaries enough not to ask. But I'm not the only one who thinks you guys are surprisingly good together."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I was talking to Robb the other day, and he said Gendry was different. Like he had less of a weight on his shoulders.
It didn't make any sense. He didn't like her, he made sure to point that out to her plenty of times to let her know what was what. But Sansa was saying something completely different...Arya knew that she shouldn't listen to it because, really, nobody knew the full story, but hearing all of this only made her feel like she was somehow lighter and heavier at the same time. Like the thought of Gendry truly liking her as much as she liked him made her feel like she could walk on air but the reality of what she knew to be true just added a weight onto her own shoulders.
For all she knew, Robb could be noticing an easier side to Gendry because he was relieved he didn't have to worry about a date to the wedding for himself, or maybe it was that he felt good about doing something nice for Arya. She didn't know the truth, and normally, Arya would have no problem asking for the truth without any preamble, but this was different. This was Gendry. And that only made it worse because usually, that would mean to nothing to her. It wouldn't stop her from asking him to tell him what he really thought, or felt, but this was her own heart she was playing with. These were her own feelings she was messing with just by thinking about this, and she needed to put a stop to it. As soon as possible.
She looked back at the flowers sitting on her nightstand, the stems submerged in water. In just a few days, those flowers very well might be dead. She thought of the card, of Gendry telling her that he was picking her up at 7:30 sharp. When he said sharp, he meant it. No earlier, no later.
"Arya?" Sansa called her name, waving a hand in front of her face. "Arya? You blanked out for a few minutes there. Are you okay? What were you thinking about?"
She blinked a few times as she brought herself back to the conversation. "Oh. Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I was just...thinking."
"About what?"
Arya paused, took a deep breath. Another one. "I have a date to get ready for."
( O O O )
Sansa had put off talking to Willas about their fight for another hour to help Arya prepare for whatever Gendry had planned for them. One text to him had confirmed that they would be going out on a real date and that she should dress a little nicer, but there was no need to wear a dress or anything too fancy. Arya didn't want to think about their contract explicitly stating no public dates, but she still felt her palms sweat as she watched Sansa root through her closet.
"Here," she said, finally coming out with a hanger in her had. "You can wear this." She held out the hanger to Arya, who took it from her hands. It was a loose-fitting black lace halter top with an asymmetrical hem that Arya had never seen before in her life.
"Where did this shirt come from?" she asked, holding it up in front of her. The price tag was still hanging on the inside of the shirt. She didn't remember buying this shirt at all.
"I think that was Margaery's birthday present to you this year, wasn't it?" Sansa asked. She had disappeared back into the closet, looking through all of Arya's bottoms. While Arya had a nice collection of clothes, it was nothing on Sansa's, and it only took a few minutes of rummaging for her to appear in front of the door glaring at her sister.
"Do you own nothing nice at all?" she asked accusingly.
"Um, hey. I own plenty of nice things," Arya defended, casting a glance at her closet. It did look incredibly...black. And plain. "I have that nice dress I wore last time."
"Yeah, and it somehow ended up on Gendry's couch and you wearing his sweats. You're not wearing that dress again, especially not after just one week since you've worn it."
Arya tried to defend herself again, but Sansa just grabbed her hand and pulled her into her old room. "Here. You can borrow some of the stuff I left here after I moved out."
Arya started. "I didn't know you still had clothes here—"
"Obviously. Willas and I couldn't find an apartment with a closet big enough. That's why we're looking to find something bigger to buy so we can hire contractors to make something a bit more special for me." She smiled dreamily, though Arya had to resist the urge to laugh at what her sister was going to be doing with her new home. "He says it's his wedding gift to me."
"Well," Arya said as she began sifting through piles of Sansa's pants, organized by color, "I hope you two are very happy together. And in case you were curious, I meant you and your closet."
"Ha ha. Very funny. You're hilarious. Let me know when you drop your next Netflix comedy special so I can add it to my queue." Sansa let out a noise of relief and pulled something out. "Here! These are perfect!"
Arya wasn't one for admitting when she was wrong, but even she couldn't deny that her sister knew how to pick out clothes.
She was holding a pair of tapered pants that were dyed a bright red. They had a high waist with a tie belt looping through the waist and it looked like there were deep pockets. If Arya was being honest with herself, it would go perfectly with the top Sansa had managed to dig out of her closet. And by the smug look on her face, she knew that she had managed to find the perfect ensemble for her to wear.
Arya took the pants out of Sansa's hands. "It'll do," she said simply, already starting to change.
Sansa rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You love the outfit and you know it. I don't know why you always refuse to take me up on my offer to go shopping with you. God knows I ask you to come along at least once a week. It would do you good to wear something other than the color black every once in a while. You might even buy something gray."
"Funny," Arya replied, throwing the shirt over her head and looking in the mirror as she put the outfit on.
"Aren't I hilarious?" Sansa quipped back.
"Yeah, let me know when your Netflix comedy special is on so I know that I should ignore it."
Sansa let out an indignant noise. "Just for that, I should refuse to do your hair for you."
Arya paused. "I haven't even asked you to do my hair for me yet."
"Yes, but you were going to."
"No, I wasn't."
"Arya. You just said you hadn't asked me to do your hair for you yet."
"...Please do my hair for me, Sansa."
Sansa let out a resigned sigh. "Sit yourself down."
( O O O )
"You look really nice, Arya," Gendry said as Arya climbed into the car an hour later, her hair artfully arranged by Sansa in a purposefully messy-looking fishtail braid that had been thrown over the leather jacket she slipped into so she didn't get cold outside.
"Thanks," she said, her breath puffing out in front of her like a smoke cloud. She shut the door and buckled her seat belt, feeling her heart beat faster than usual as they sat together in the car.
"So you have no guesses on where I'm taking you tonight?"
"Well," Arya said, turning the heater towards her and putting her hands up. "I'm going to just take a wild guess and say we're going back to your apartment because I'm pretty sure our contract explicitly states no public dates. But you should know that already, considering you not only helped me come up with that rule and later signed your name under it, but we also went over this last week when you tried to break the exact same rule before."
"Okay, fair enough," Gendry amended as he started driving. "But this isn't a date. It's not, I swear," he said when Arya gave him a look. "I just sent that card over with the roses to make it look like it was a date. But this." He waved a hand between them. "This is just a dinner between friends."
She was taken aback. Just the two of them, actually going to dinner? And yet, he was still saying they were doing it as just friends.
"If this is just a thing between two people who are just friends," Arya said carefully, "then why bother? Why not do what we agreed on from the very beginning and just...go to your place, or catch a movie or something? You sent the flowers, my dad saw them, he questioned me, Sansa saw them, Jon was told about them and he let me know it when we had lunch earlier today. You got your message across. Why bother with an actual dinner?"
Was she imagining the look of panic in his eyes, or was it real? Was she starting to see things that weren't really there, or was Gendry actually floundering for an answer? Was it just her mind playing tricks on her to make her think she was seeing what she wanted to see?
"Because. I don't treat you enough."
"You don't—what? You don't treat me enough?"
"No. You're my best friend, and I always make you hole up in my pathetic little apartment and eat Chinese food or pizza and drink shitty beer."
"But...I like holing up in your apartment and eating Chinese food and pizza and...well, I don't drink your shitty beer, but I do make a pretty decent margarita. And your apartment is a far cry from pathetic, Gendry. I'd say you've done rather well for yourself."
She definitely wasn't imagining the way he smiled with pride when she said that.
"Thanks. But it doesn't change the fact that we always do the same thing at the same time on the same day of the week. And we've been doing it forever. It's time I did something nice for you for once. Friends are supposed to treat each other, you know?"
"I'm sorry, is this your way of hinting to me that you want me to start taking you out to fancy dinners just because you're my friend?"
"No, although I have no doubt that you could afford a much nicer dinner than what we're about to have. I just want to be nice for a night."
"And it took pretending to be my boyfriend to help you finally realize that you were being a bit lazy when it came to thinking of things for us to do when we want to hang out together?"
"Precisely." He clapped his hand on her knee, and Arya had to force herself to do anything except tense up. She knew that if she did that, then he would pull his hand back, apologize for crossing some boundary that did not exist in any way, shape, or form, and then it would never happen again.
But she wanted his hand there so badly, so she stayed still. God, she was wearing pants and she could somehow still feel the heat of his palm through the material. It didn't seem like his hand was sweaty or anything, but he was holding her knee. It felt nice, privately intimate, something that no one passing by their car on the road would be able to see through the window, but they both knew it was happening.
She really needed to stop this.
"So, Sansa was over today," she said, just to have something to say.
"Yeah, I figured," Gendry said, pointing to her hair. "I know how hopeless you are with your hair. There's no way you could have managed that."
"Shut up. I'm speaking. And you said you were going to be nice for a night. So treat your girlfriend with respect."
"You're right. I send my deepest apologies, my lady. Please, continue. You were saying Sansa was at your humble abode."
Arya glowered at him. "I am not above punching you while you're still driving. I will take us both down if it means getting to punch you."
"I'll file a report of an abusive relationship."
"Oh, but then you'd have to admit we were never in a relationship when they put you on the stand under oath, to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you, God."
Gendry opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Eventually, he coughed out a laugh and shook his head, a smile spreading on his face. "How'd you come up with that so fast?" he asked.
"It's not that hard to come up with ways to outsmart you on the spot. You're just that stupid."
"Um, I take offense."
"You can keep your offense as long as I get to finish what I was saying before you rudely interrupted me."
"Arya, that doesn't even make any sense—okay, okay, just finish your story."
"So, Sansa was over today and she told me that she got into a fight with Willas."
"Oh." Gendry frowned. "I hope it wasn't a serious one. Is everything okay? Are they okay?"
"No, I think they'll be fine. We had a talk about...them. And their relationship. It made me realize something."
Gendry was silent for a second longer than normal. "Oh? And what did you realize throughout this conversation?"
"I realized that it would be nice...to have someone care enough to fight with me the way they do with each other. They don't...they don't fight just to fight. They fight because there's an underlying issue and they want to solve it before it gets out of hand too quickly and then there's nothing they can do to stop it. I think...I think that would be a nice thing to have."
Gendry nodded, his mouth set in a tight line.
"I think maybe that's what I'll start looking for. After this is all over, you know. The wedding, and...this."
And there it was. Her cards spread out on the table. As clear as she could force herself to be. All Gendry had to do was take this as a sign, take it as a hint to make the next move, the final move, and make whatever this was between them a real, solid thing.
He started to speak, but couldn't finish anything after "I think." He paused for a few seconds, the quiet humming from the heater's vents the only sound in the car. "I think," he started again, "that that's...a good idea. Maybe, you know, the person you're looking for is closer than you might think."
Maybe, Arya thought, she was starting to believe in signs of her own.