This turned out to be longer than I expected.
11. A Sharp Memory
There was that feeling in Sansa's stomach again, similar to the one she felt yesterday when she was with Jon, a soft of mixture between anticipation and electric tingles.
Early mornings were their own reward, she had come to find out. There was no drone of cars, or the hiss as they move over the street, and there were no loud voices from the neighbours unlike a typical day on the street. Even the sky wasn't gray, but soothing lavender and brilliant amber. The colours merged into neon pink and peach.
Sansa stretched her limbs out from her pleasant and well rested sleep, and took her white duvet off before walking over to her bedroom window. Grabbing her curtains together, she pulled them open and was greeted by the rising sun. She had never watched the sunrise before, always preferring to catch a few extra minutes of sleep. But somehow, she felt as if she had missed out on something truly jaws dropping.
She had never noticed its beauty before. Jon was right, she thought with a soft smile. Sunrise really was one of the most beautiful images to ever experience.
Jon should have been here to see this with me.
For the first time in a long time, Sansa had slept without any worries over exams, university applications or the threat of moving away from her family. The only dreams she had were filled with a particular curly haired guy who made her stomach flip.
She let out an audible sigh, viewing the sun rise in the sky, before realising it was time to get ready for school. It was 7 'o clock, she had been watching for more than an hour, allowing her thoughts to drift happily.
She would see him today, as she had English for the second period, the thought which filled her with eagerness, hoping to see his handsome face. Grabbing her towel from the cupboard, she opens her bedroom door and walks out into the landing towards the bathroom, on the far end of the corridor.
Arya's room was across from hers, and she noticed that it was still firmly shut. She rolled her eyes, knowing her sister would not be up until their mother had to forcibly drag her out of it in order to get ready for school. Sansa's completely sure that if her mother did not undertake the task, Arya would miss school without realising it.
Padding along the landing she finally reached the bathroom, pushed the door open and walked inside. She walked leisurely towards the shower, and with the switch of the lever, the water came pouring down. Stripping off her clothes, she stepped inside and felt the water pouring down by her side, as her mind fades into dullness and everything becomes a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water calms her; a soft smile arising on her face while her eyes closed. Her mind wonders, feeling as if she was standing under an everlasting waterfall.
The shower curtain is ripped back and Sansa does not even flinch, too engrossed with the water cascading down her body and massaging her muscles.
"Sansa," Jon sighs, exasperation clear in his tone. "What are you doing?"
She cracks an eyelid open and raises a brow at the same time, watching him. "Standing here."
His unusually darkened eyes flash down her body, all over her curves, down to her legs before flashing back to her face. "Sansa... oh, sweet girl."
She watches him, unperturbed by her nudity, as the water runs over her skin like a caress. Clad in his usual black slacks, with the standard white shirt with a grey collar tucked in (her favourite shirt), the sleeves rolled up to his elbows; he takes a step forward and stands directly in front of her.
Slowly, she raises a hand and cups his cheek, his beard rubbing against the palm of her hand, and leans close to kiss him gently. Feeling his hands glide over her water slick body, pulling her closer to him and disregards the fact that Sansa was naked and wet while he was clothed as he brings her deeper into the kiss.
Sansa pulled back first. "We shouldn't be doing this," she murmured. "Not here."
Jon chuckled. "Little too late for that, isn't it?" the teacher asked with a dark smirk, wrapping an arm around Sansa while his free hand teased a thigh, lightly kneading.
Sansa tried to refocus her thoughts into something coherent. "Bedroom?" Her hips bucked as Jon's skilful finger brushed her slit and rubbed at her clit for a few seconds.
The dark-haired man leaned in closer to the red-haired beauty. "But I've got you right where I want you," he whispered throatily as his finger traced Sansa's opening. "Don't tell me you're worried about an audience."
He pushed one finger inside her quickly to cut off whatever the diva was going to say and Sansa's mouth worked noiselessly.
"Jon...," the student breathed, rocking a little more forcefully onto his hand. "I-I really think-"
"Think what? I should let people know, let everyone see what they are missing? I bet every guy in school would love to watch Sansa Stark as helpless as she is for me," he pulled out briefly only to shove two fingers back into the tall girl.
Sansa whimpered, jerking a little as her eyes rolled back and she gripped the collar of Jon's shirt a little tighter.
"Look at you," Jon growled, pumping rapidly. "You can't even talk. You're speechless." He lowered his voice and brought his lips right up to Sansa's ear. "Does it get you off, knowing that a member of your family could walk in at any time and see you riding my fingers, completely desperate?"
Sansa mewled, hips pleading silently for him to go faster.
"Knowing that I wouldn't stop no matter who caught us, and you would be so completely satisfied that you wouldn't even care."
"Close," she managed, sucking in air. "So close. Jon, please."
The teacher twisted his wrist, pleased with the moan that erupted from her. "Let's finish this, shall we?" Sansa nodded frantically, body tensing. Jon rubbed quick, tight circles on her clit.
"HEY! SANSA!"
A pounding on the bathroom door broke her out of her thoughts. With a startled expression, she glanced towards the closed door, and tried to calm the beating of her heart. She could make out the annoyed tone of Arya's voice behind the door.
"Hurry up! I need to use the bathroom. You've been in there for ages," Arya bellowed.
Sansa gave a sigh, irritated due to the fact that she wasn't able to finish her dream. "I'll be right there!" she yelled back.
"Okay, hurry! Mum's got breakfast ready. She told me to tell you."
Breakfast would not be sufficient enough to make up the dream she had been interrupted from. And with that thought, she reached her hand out and turned the leaver towards the cold temperature, hoping it would be enough to remove the throbbing sensation between her legs.
"Oh, Sansa dear! You're up, come help me set the table," the mother beckoned her, clad in an apron while she was setting the table.
Sansa walks around the table, picks up the cutlery and begins setting it.
"Your sister is becoming harder to wake up every morning," Catelyn frowns disapprovingly. "I don't know how she's going to manage in the future when I'm not there."
Sansa chuckles, picking up the plates from kitchen counter. "Don't worry, mum. I'm sure Gendry would love to take on that job. It's not like he would mind."
"Hmm," Catelyn muses thoughtfully. "I wish him luck. The poor boy doesn't know what he's getting into," she remarks.
"Who doesn't know what there're getting into?" Arya strode into the kitchen with her hair wet from the shower, and grabbed a piece of toast from the table.
"ARYA! Sit down on the table if you're going to eat. I don't want you making a mess in my kitchen," Catelyn purses her lips at her. She glances towards Sansa, "Thank you, dear for your help. You can sit down and eat your breakfast now."
Sansa nods and slides into her chair, and reaches out to grab a croissant to put on her plate. Arya rolls her eyes and also sits down on one of the chairs.
"You didn't answer my question. Who doesn't know what they're getting into?" Arya asks, shoving a piece of toast in her mouth.
Sansa wrinkles her nose in disgust at her sister's eating habitats. "Gendry doesn't," she answers sipping her orange juice.
Arya pauses for a second, her hand frozen while her face had a deer-in-headlights expression. She swallows nervously. "What about him?"
Sansa smiles sweetly. "Oh, nothing. Just wondering when you're going to tell him that you like him," she teases with a mirthful smirk.
Arya frowns in confusion. "Of course, I do. I wouldn't be friends with him otherwise," she furrows her forehead, giving her sister a peculiar glance.
Sansa raises an eyebrow. "Hmm, I'm sure you do," she says slowly, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, giving Arya a tiny smirk.
Arya did not like the way her sister was looking at her, as if she knew something that she didn't.
Why did she mention Gendry? Matter of fact is, why do I get a weird feeling in my chest when anyone mentions that bull headed boy?
Sansa expression was grating on her nerves. Narrowing her eyes towards her, she decided to tease her back.
"You can talk. Like I don't know about your crush on the older boy?" Arya drawls, pleased at the way Sansa's face paled. She noticed the way, Sansa's grip tightened on her fork.
She gave a nervous swallow before giving a chuckle. "Don't be silly, Arya. I don't have a crush on anyone. Besides I'm too busy with school to have a boyfriend."
Catelyn decided to join in the conversation, her eyes lightening up with joy at the mention of Sansa liking someone. "Sansa, you never told me that you liked someone. Who is this older boy you like? Do I know him?"
You know him very well.
Sansa heaves a sigh, desperately wanting the conversation to move on and her heart rate to decrease. "It's no one, mum. Arya's just trying to avoid her crush on Gendry by attacking me," she glares at her sister.
Arya's face reddens in anger, she glares right back Sansa. "I don't have a crush on my best friend," she growls, a warning tone to her voice.
"Okay, enough, the both of you!" their mother butted in, trying to avoid a confrontation between the two sisters. "Just eat your breakfast and then, Arya, go and get ready for school. I swear, young lady, if I get another call from your teacher saying that you've been bunking your maths lessons, I'm going to have a word with your father," she warns.
Arya slumped in her chair, a disgruntled expression written across her face. Sansa had to bit her tongue to stop herself from smiling, relieved that no one developed the subject about her love life any deeper.
"Oh, and Sansa dear, if you do have a crush on someone, you can tell your family who it is if you want to. We'll support you," she encourages, smiling at Sansa.
"Thanks, mum but I don't have a crush on anyone at this moment," she answers, avoiding eye contact with her mother by staring at the food on her plate.
Catelyn stares at her for a second before nodding and turning to serve Ned's plate.
Sansa had to push the guilt she felt at the moment down. She and her mother had always been close, since she was a child and she had told her everything.
Oh mother. Would you still support me if you knew that it was Jon I liked, and I was carrying out an affair with him?
Sansa sits on the edge of her plastic chair, barely listening to the steady buzzing sound of Jeyne talking in her right ear. She was waiting for Jon to walk in, her knee bouncing up and down in anticipation.
As the door opened, she spotted him, her heart jumping into her mouth. The teacher walked into the room with a certain bounce to his step. There was none of the nervousness about him that usually came with the young teachers, or the sternness that followed other teachers in the comprehensive. Ordinarily they shouted the odds from the start in some desperate and strained voice trying to follow the manual of teacher training college. But Jon treated them as if he'd known them his whole life and set about ordering his desk and papers.
Her eyes took on his classic black suit with the white shirt she had fantasized him in this morning. That thought made her flush red, and avoid Jeyne's eyes in case she noticed her reaction to Jon. Quite possibly, he dressed better than most teachers in the school, but somehow, he belonged in those clothes with his hair tied up and his beard neatly trimmed, looking as handsome as ever.
Jon was beaming at the front of the class, and Sansa fought not to reflect it back, knowing it would look suspicious to her friends, especially as they thought that she hated him.
Jeyne leaned over to whisper in Sansa's ear. "He looks hot doesn't he, Sansa?"
Sansa was close to agreeing with her, instead she turned her head sideways and ignored her, hoping for Jeyne to not notice her blushing cheeks.
When he opened his mouth to speak, much to the surprise of the class, they all fell silent.
"Good morning guys. I hope you you've been enjoying your morning so far," he beams around the classroom, his smile growing wider as he makes eye contact with Sansa. She blushes under his stare, the corner of lip twitching upwards.
The majority of the class were disgruntled and filled with annoyance at his cheery attitude in the morning, but Sansa found that she rather liked it. It made him look ten times more handsome (if that was even possible) than he was when he smiled like that. She just hoped he was happy because of her.
Jeyne leaned across to whisper in Sansa's ear. "He looks cheery, doesn't he? Do you think Mr Snow finally got laid yesterday?"
Sansa faintly blushes pink, her thoughts drifting to the scene in the car. "Jeyne! Shhh! He could hear you," she hisses back.
Jon didn't not seem to be paying attention to them though, but rather taking in the rest of the students and explaining the lesson for the day. "Okay guys, it's going to be a simple day today. You're going to be answering questions from the sheet, and then we'll have a discussion afterwards."
A select few of the students nodded, Sansa included, while the rest of them rolled their eyes. Jon still beamed brightly at them, as he noticed Sansa paying attention to him.
"Right then, Sam, could you pass the sheets out please," Jon beckoned him over. Sam nodded, walking over to his desk and grabs the pile of paper from Jon's desk.
At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Jon calls for the person to come in, and all eyes turn to the boy walking in gracefully. He was olive skinned with black hair, and had a mischievous smirk written on his face. Sansa thought he was handsome in an exotic way, she would have liked him if she had seen him at the beginning of the school year.
Most of the girls, excluding Sansa, drifted their eyes towards him, and they sat up straight in their seats.
Jon's looked curiously at the olive skinned male. "May I help you, young man?" he questioned.
The young boy in question glimpsed up at Jon, then glanced down at the sheet of paper currently clutched in his hand, his messenger bag wrapped around his shoulders. "Yes, I have a change in my timetable and instead of being in Mr Lannister's English class, the school decided to move me here," he smiled, Sansa could almost hear the dreamy sighs from the class.
Jon for some reason, did not look happy anymore. His smile had disappeared and he was looking blankly at the boy, before realising the class were waiting for his reply. "Right, what's your name?" he asked.
"Trystane Martell," he replies smoothly.
Jon hesitated for a moment, looking conflicted before speaking again. "Okay, Mr Martell. Take a seat beside Miss Stark."
Sansa's head snapped up, then glanced at the seat next to her. The seat was the only one left available in the classroom which meant that Jon had no choice. Trystane looked around before looking towards Sansa, giving a charming smile towards her as he slid into his seat.
Sansa gave him a friendly smile. "Hey, I'm Sansa," she whispers to him, not wanting to be rude.
"Trystane. But I'm sure you already heard that when I walked in," he smirks.
Sansa gave out a quiet laugh, deciding she liked him. He was charming and seemed quite nice. "Nice to meet you."
"You too. I hope we can become good friends," he remarks sincerely.
Sansa nodded at looked at the front of the class, noticing how silent Jon had become, gripping the marker pen so tightly in his hand, that his knuckles had whitened.
He broke out his thoughts, clearly his throat suddenly and looked around the class. "Right guys, get on with the work in front of you. We'll discuss about your thoughts and ideas in thirty minutes."
Picking up her pen, Sansa caught Margaery's eyes from across her, the latter's eyebrows raising suggestively, and motioning towards Trystante. Sansa gives her pointed glare and turns back around, hoping to concentre on her work instead of the heated stare she could feel from Jon, knowing that he caught their exchange.
The rest of the thirty minutes runs by smoothly, everyone getting on with their work. A few minutes later, Jon stops the class and asks them for their ideas.
"Okay, guys. Let's focus on the first question for now. Discuss how age and youth affects the character of Romeo and his infatuation or love for Juliet. So, what do we think? Gilly?" he asks.
"Sir?" she looks up at him in confusion.
"Do you think youth and age has something to do with the infatuation, both Romeo and Juliet feel?" Jon questions, placing both hands on the desk behind him and leaning back.
Gilly struggled to reply, and Sansa opened her mouth to answer, taking the end of her pen out of mouth. "I don't think it does," she blurts out.
Jon looked surprised, and glances over at her. "Oh, okay. Go on," he encourages.
"I just think that age doesn't have anything to do with the feelings that they both feel. Despite being teenagers, I think they are old enough to understand the passion they both experience. More so than the adults in the play."
Jon stares at her, a soft smile gracing his features. "You don't think that adults understand passion or be able to express their feelings, in a contemporary society?" he narrows his eyes almost teasingly.
"Some of them don't. Both character's families certainly do not. In today's society only the lucky ones choose to act on their feelings. The majority don't," she shrugs without breaking eye contact with Jon.
"And what happens to the people who don't act on their feelings?" he asks softly.
"They get very frustrated over time," Sansa smirks up at him.
A skinny blonde-haired boy cleared his throat loudly as if he was trying not to laugh, catching the attention of the rest of the class.
Jon looked angry, his soft expression hardening as he glowers over at the boy. "I'm sorry Lommy, do have anything to contribute to the class other than phlegm," he growls through clenched teeth.
Lommy turned run in embarrassment as the rest of the students snickered at him. He looked fearful as he glanced up into Jon's angry gaze. "I didn't say anything, sir-"
Jon cuts him off. "No, you were just clearing your throat loudly and disrupting Sansa's attempt to try and understand the play," he snaps.
"Sir I really didn't- "
"Really? What were you doing then?" Jon stares Lommy with a stony expression.
Sansa felt pity for the boy who must have been confused on why he was getting attacked by the teacher so suddenly. She slowly wilted into her seat, feeling her cheeks turn red in embarrassment at Jeyne's curious glance towards her.
"I-I really was just clearly my throat, sir…" Lommy answered weakly, avoiding eye contact with Jon.
Jon, himself, realised how silent the class was, catching Sansa's glare at him at the same time. He deflated in his anger. "Okay. Perhaps you can answer the question then?" Jon sighed.
Lommy looked relieved at not getting a detention. He nodded and continued to give his own opinion.
The rest of the lesson pasted smoothly with Sansa continuing her work and helping Trystane out in the process. When the bell rang for break time, the rest of the class filed out while Sansa stayed sitting in her chair, waving her friends off to go on without her.
As the footsteps of the last person ceased in the distance, Sansa stood and strode over towards Jon, a glare aimed at him. "What were you thinking, Jon? What was that? I have never been so embarrassed in my entire life; the rest of the class knew something was up."
He looked up from his papers on the desk and glared right back at her. "I was trying to protect you, Sansa. He was laughing right at you."
"I don't need your protection, Jon. You should learn to ignore him," she snaps.
"Just like you should ignore the other boys in the class, instead of flirting with them," he mumbles.
Sansa closes her mouth, pausing for a second. "You're jealous," she looks at him in disbelief before growing angry again. "I was not flirting, I was just being friendly," she growls at him, crossing her arms.
Jon rolls his eyes. "But he was flirting with you."
"Oh, god's sake, Jon! He was just being nice, it's not like I was going to ignore him. Now if you excuse me I have a break time I want to enjoy," she turns on her heel and walks off.
Jon stops her before she can disappear. "You have to come after school, Sansa," he calls after her.
Sansa stops in her tracks. "Why?" she asks without turning around.
"Because of the extra tutoring session, remember? And no matter how angry you are with me, I'm not letting you miss out on a golden opportunity that will benefit your future," he retorts sharply.
She heaves a sigh, turns her head round, gives a nod towards Jon and walked out of the door.
Sansa was sitting on a chair in Jon's classroom, filling out exam questions in a booklet. Jon was sat on his desk, marking student work with a red pen. It was after school and she had turning up as expected, the anger from before had evaporated.
There was a knock on the door, and they both looked up towards it. An elderly man gingerly steps through the door. Sansa recognised him as the school caretaker and janitor, clad in a flat blue cap which he takes off as he begins to speak.
"The school is closing now, sir," the old man points out, and Sansa bit her lip. She was almost finished with the questions, only needing twenty more minutes which could make a significant difference.
Jon knew this, which is why he claimed, "We'll only be twenty more minutes."
The elderly man shook his head, pointing a frail hand behind him. "The only people left in the whole school is us three, everyone else has gone home which is something I need to do," he explains. He sticks a hand down his trouser pockets and takes out a key.
The janitor hobbles over towards Jon and places the key down in front of him, who glances curiously at it and then looks up at the old man. "What's this for?"
"That's the main key for the school. I've locked all the other doors and windows, and just left the side door open at the end of the English corridor. Just lock that on your way out, and don't worry about the security system. That comes on automatically," he clarifies.
"Thank you, but how do I get it back to you?" Jon inquires but the old man shook his head.
"I have another spare key, so just leave it on my tray in the staff room, tomorrow morning," he says.
Jon nods and thanks him again as the caretaker leaves the room. Both of them glance up and lock eyes, a shiver runs down Sansa's spine. She drops her gaze back onto her work and they continue in silence for another fifteen minutes, until all her work is complete and both their belonging are packed up.
Sansa brings her eyes up to meet his, and she swallows at his intense stare. "I'm sorry. I should not have been angry at you earlier today. I know you were just trying to protect me," she looks at him softly.
Jon shakes his head. "No, I'm sorry for acting like that. You were right, I let my jealousy take the better of me when I should have handled it better," he admits. "I'm just scared that you'll eventually realise that you want a relationship that won't make you hide in public."
"I don't want any of the other guys. They don't make me feel the way that you make me feel… like I'm experiencing an infinite amount of emotions all at once…it's kind of hard to explain," she struggles to explain.
Jon looks at her with a tender look in his eyes, a smile gracing his features at her words. "It's okay, Sansa. I know what you're talking about."
They both stay silent for two seconds before Sansa whispers to him. "Jon, I want you."
Jon's lips were on hers before she had time to think.
The lips pressed urgently against Sansa's lips, making her lift her arms and wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to her. He moves her backwards until her legs hit the edge of his desk. She lets out a soft moan as he breaks the kiss, trailing his lips along her neck, pressing hot kisses and gripping the back of her thighs to lift her on his desk; the rest of the material is pushed off the desk with a clatter on the floor.
He found her sweet spot smirking in between his kisses on her neck as she let out a loud groan. His hands move upwards from her thighs towards her shirt, he clutches the top part of her shirt and rips downwards, the buttons scattering everywhere from his forced strength.
She also wanted to feel his bare skin on her hands which is why she opened his precious white shirt, feeling his muscles bunching against her soft hands. Her heart rate increased, her mouth falling open his hand ran up and down her body.
His hands then run up her body towards her bra, ripping it in the process; he was unable to focus on properly taking it off as he was too preoccupied.
"JON!" she yells, breaking the kiss to glower at him. It had been an expensive bra which she rather liked.
He rolls his eyes, and waves his hand. "I'll buy you another one, Sansa," he said in a gruff tone and leans forward to reconnect the kiss.
Sansa found she did not care much for her bra right then, Jon's lips cutting off her thought process. She reaches down for his belt buckle which she unbuckles quite quickly. She then proceeded to undo his slacks and he breaks apart once again to look at her in surprise.
"Sansa, are you sure about this? I don't want this to be something you regret," he stares at her.
"I'm sure, Jon," she nods.
He accepts her affirmation and leans forward to kiss her again, his hand reaching for her skirting and pushing it up to her waist, until he pulls away again to rest his hands on her hips. "Sansa, we haven't got protection. Are you on the pill?" he questions her, looking imploringly into her lust blown eyes.
Sansa shakes her head, but then remembers something important, a sly smirk uplifting her lips. "There's a condom in your top draw that you confiscated from Ros, remember?"
Jon looked at her straight in the eyes, both chest heaving from the frantic kissing. "Do you want me to get it?" he asks.
"Yes."
That ending though...
