The Hopeless Romantic

14th February 2015

Jon looked at himself in the mirror, dusting himself down despite the lack of dust on his clothes. He was nervous. His reflection showed him a man fully grown now, sporting a tight fitting suit and a well-groomed face. He looked incredibly dapper, according to his mother. Clutching a bouquet of winter roses in one hand, he took a deep breath.

This was it.

He always kind of hated Valentine's Day. He told people around him he thought it was just a corporate or capitalist gimmick to make people buy products so the greedy rich could continue to step on the poor. Despite his revolutionary principles, he actually hated Valentine's Day because of all the lovey-dovey crap that happened all around him. He was forced to be exposed to all his friends at school swooning over each other, and the established couples kissing and giving gifts to show how much they loved each other, for twenty-four hours.

He hated it because it made him lonely.

Jon was somewhat of a hopeless romantic. He'd tried his hand before at the game of love, but with very limited success. First there was Ygritte, the attractive, foul-mouthed ginger he had a crush on some years back. She was somewhat into him too, but that never worked out. They were too different, and when he decided to tell her he thought they should take a break she threw anything within reach at him for 'wasting her time'. Jon concluded in years gone by that she would've been too much to handle. He crawled back under his shell where he was safe.

Then there was Daenerys, the head girl. Men pined after her as if she were a deity, and Jon had done the same. She was gorgeous, kind and considerate, always making time for others and assisting those in need. Her fiery temper and personality broke Jon's wall of security. Eventually, he mustered up the courage to ask her on a date.

"You're very sweet Jon, but you're like a brother to me."

Ouch.

Again, Jon crawled (as fast as he possibly could) under his shell. This game was clearly not made for him.

Until his shell was cracked once again.

He'd known Arya for a long time. She was his best friend Robb's sister, although as time went on Jon found himself gravitating more towards Arya as his best friend. They talked all the time, sometimes spending all night just bantering back and forth for no reason other than to be with each other. She'd become family to him, become home. For years this arrangement was fine. Jon confided in her about his dumpster-fire of a love life, and Arya consoled him when disaster struck in that arena.

It was only when they were mistaken for a couple, did Jon realise how he felt.

He relied on her. She was like a drug to him, and he couldn't get enough.

He was in love with her.

He started off by denying it, even to himself. It couldn't be true! She wasn't a Ygritte or Daenerys, she was Arya! But then Jon started to put the pieces together. The shared traits. The shared mannerisms. The realisation was slow, taking months to truly dawn on him the extent of his feelings. There was no one moment where it slapped him in the face, but by now he felt like he'd been slapped several times by the world's largest and roughest hands.

So he'd brooded, and pondered, and debated, and reasoned, and fretted, and worried, until, eventually, he worked up the courage necessary to tell her.

He tried to take on board what he'd learnt from his prior two ventures in the world of romance, only to discover he'd learnt shockingly little about women.

'But she isn't just any woman, she's Arya.' Jon told himself. She would understand… right?

He just needed to be honest and upfront. Calm and collected.

And ignore the fact that he felt exactly the opposite.

Inside his body there was a chemical war of epic proportions raging, Jon trying to distract himself with the science behind his emotional state wasn't helping it either.

He just needed to do it.

Say what needed to be said.

"You look so handsome, Jon!" his mother, Lyanna, told him as he descended the stairs. "You remind me so much of your father." She added, sadness swelling in her eyes as she spoke. Jon offered her a sad smile before embracing her carefully, not wanting to damage the flowers.

He had vented to his mother about his feelings regarding Arya. He felt like a little kid, going to mummy for answers to his problems. But she had been so understanding, and supportive, that Jon didn't have reason to regret his decisions.

"Thanks Mum." He said awkwardly, always finding praise difficult to handle.

"Now remember what I told you." She began dusting him as well, straightening out his clothes and brushing down his back for no obvious reason. "Just be friendly and honest, and she'll appreciate it more than you understand. She's a lovely girl, Jon. And you're a wonderful young man. Just be yourself."

"Yes, yes, I know." Jon tried to shake her off, her constant touching and repeated reminders traits of motherhood he had yet to figure out.

"Okay! I'm just saying. Now go on! Off with you!"

He gave her a smile before making for the door, his breathing getting more nervous by the second. He felt comfortable and secure with his mother present, which he supposed was a sign she was a good mother. But now he was venturing into the big wide world… it made him almost nauseous.

"Good luck!" Lyanna called after him as he closed the door, relaxing him, even if only momentarily.

The walk to her house wasn't long, but involved walking down the high street to reach it. Jon wasn't exactly socially-minded, but he realised he would just blend in as any other man on Valentines Day. Still, he wanted to avoid seeing anyone he knew, and then being faced with the inevitable questions. He wasn't in that headspace.

Trudging through the early evening human stew, Jon looked in the windows of the various shops he passed by, many of them cafes and restaurants. Being Valentines Day and all, they were all packed, flowery decorations and pretty lights decorating the scenery in a majority of the establishments. Sat at the tables were couples, looking longingly at their lovers or their champagne flutes, which could be indicative of how the night would turn out for those duos.

Jon's spirits lifted slightly. He could do this – the relationship thing. The going out and the talking and the… other stuff. He'd figure it out.

But then he saw something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Zooming in with his eyeballs to get a better view, he saw someone very familiar, sitting across from someone who was also very familiar.

It was Arya.

She was wearing a dress, which is why Jon assumed he needed a second look. She never wore dresses, or makeup, or really anything distinctly 'ladylike'. Looking at the man across the table, Jon's eyes widened further.

Gendry Baratheon.

Another of Robb's close friends.

Then the most shocking thing of all happened, which made Jon's heart convulse and shatter into pieces like woodchips.

She leaned across the table, and kissed him on the lips.

This was no brief kiss or half-hearted kiss. She was really going for it.

Jon felt defeated and, in some ways, humiliated.

He backed out of their potential line of sight, before resting his back against the cold brick wall behind him. He raised the winter roses to meet his eyeline, and his vision blurred slightly. He didn't want them to be tears, but they could have been. Resignedly, he hung his head and trudged back home.

Back to his shell.

Although this time the cracks were from inside the shell, not outside. Arya was his closest friend, and the knowledge that he wanted her but couldn't have her felt like the ultimate middle finger.

All because of Gendry-I've-got-abs-and-a-crap-sense-of-humour-Baratheon.

That bastard.


14th February 2016

Jon slumped on the sofa as soon as he got home from school. Valentines Day was the usual nightmare, and it was made even worse by Gendry and Arya, the latter talking his ear off about Valentines Day plans. On the plus side, Robb had an angry glare fixed on Gendry while Arya rattled on, so at least he shared in the discomfort, if only to a tiny degree.

He had hoped that these feelings would have dissipated by now, but, surprise, surprise, they hadn't. Someone like Arya wasn't someone you just got over. She was always by his side, talking to him about everything, even relationship stuff, which had been it's own specialised form of torture for the past three-hundred and sixty-five days. She had definitely noticed that something had changed, though. She kept asking him if he was okay, or if she'd upset him, or if he needed to talk. He shrugged it off as stress from school, but he got the impression she didn't really believe him.

But alas, he was home, his mother was cooking steak and chips tonight, and he had just purchased the entire collection of Matrix movies, which was to be his Friday night entertainment. All in all, a good evening in.

If he didn't feel so lonely and depressed.

A few hours passed, and Jon enjoyed his dinner, and rewatching the Matrix series for the four billionth time. Still, his mother had gone to get an early night and Jon couldn't help but feel an empty presence by his side. He wanted someone to be there with him, the sofa felt so large and empty with only him on it.

DING DONG!

The sound of the doorbell shook Jon from his state of self-pity. Reluctantly, he got to his feet and walked to the door.

"I'll get it!" he called up the stairs to his mother when he walked past the stairway.

Opening the door, Jon's heartrate accelerated and his eyes glazed with concern.

In front of him stood Arya Stark, shivering in the mid-February breeze. Her eyes were pink and puffy, an obvious sign she had been crying. She had her arms wrapped around herself, half for the cold, half for the comfort.

"Arya? What's wrong?" he asked, stepping towards her, the cold of the night smacking him across the face. She was wearing quite a thin skirt, which he imagined offered little protection from the elements. She looked incredible however, even with her quivering lip and tear-stained cheeks.

She was beautiful.

Without a word, Arya moved faster than lightning to crash into Jon, wrapping her arms around him and quietly sobbing into his chest. Jon pulled her closer, running his hands through her hair and rubbing her back gently. He wanted to get her inside and out of the cold, but he was enjoying this hug more than most people could appreciate. It had been so long since he and Arya were this close. He supposed it was because she and Gendry were together, and she didn't want him to get the wrong idea about her and Jon. He understood, but it still hurt him that they couldn't be as close as they had been.

Thinking about Gendry, Jon's mind started to kick into gear. Here she was, on Valentines Day, on his doorstep instead of her boyfriends. The fact she was crying her eyes out in an uncharacteristic way and seeking his comfort was definitely noted by the young man.

He had an idea of what was going on.

"Come on, let's get you inside, hmm?" he said warmly, keeping his hand tangled in her hair. She nodded, tears lining her cheeks as she did. His heart jolted in his chest. He didn't like seeing her upset.

Bringing her in out of the cold, he instantly grabbed a throw from the sofa and wrapped it around her, which she nestled into quickly. She would never have accepted this level of mothering from anyone else, not even her own family.

Sitting her down on the sofa, she tucked herself under Jon's arm and rested her head on his chest. He hoped she couldn't hear his heart beating at that moment, because he could hear it pounding in his ears at a medically concerning rate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. He already knew why she was here, but he was keen to know the specifics, so he could comfort her. He was always good at that, better than anyone else he knew. He just understood her.

Arya repositioned herself slightly, sighing shakily.

"Me and Gendry are done." She replied, coldly.

"What happened?"

"He's been seeing someone else." The end of the sentence escaped as a choked sob, but Jon heard it well enough. His blood boiled underneath his skin.

That bastard.

He wanted to sprint to Gendry's house and beat him into the dirt. Make him pay for hurting his best friend.

But that would help basically no one, and Jon didn't fancy the idea of going to jail.

And he needed to be here for Arya.

"I'm so sorry, Arya." He pulled her closer into him, and she pushed her head into his shoulder for further comfort.

Jon planted a kiss on her head. He wasn't entirely sure why he did it, but it just felt right in the moment. He instantly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end, as if he were about to face the wrath of an angry Arya. But she only sighed contently, the brief kiss seemingly calming her down. Jon rested his head on hers and stroked circles on her back.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your evening Jon." She said after a brief silence. "You must've had Valentines plans…"

"Not really. Just me and Keanu Reeves tonight." He gestured to the DVDs lying on the table, and Arya giggled slightly.

"Typical." She whispered, turning to look at him. "Thank you, Jon. I… I really needed you tonight."

There was a look in her eyes that Jon couldn't quite identify. It made him feel… warm. Accepted. Almost peaceful in a way.

"Anytime, Arya."


14th February 2017

This was it.

No more dilly-dallying around the matter.

He couldn't wait any longer.

Since Gendry had outed himself and Jeyne Poole cheating on Arya, she had been spending much more time with him, which didn't help with his romantic situation. In the past year Jon found himself falling for Arya in ways he couldn't have conceived of two years ago. But it seemed like everyday he found a new reason to fall in love with her.

After her split with Gendry, she began telling him a little bit more about their relationship, and how fake it was.

"I guess I was just flattered that some older, handsome guy liked me… I could never be myself around him though, not like I am with you."

It was comments like that which made Jon's brain freeze and voice crack. She would giggle at him and pat his head as if he were a dog, being suspiciously intimate with him while she did so.

It was his mother who picked up on it before he did.

"I think she really likes you, Jon." She told him, after Arya had left one evening.

"No she doesn't…" he sighed.

"Yes she does! You really should start thinking a little higher of yourself. She can't take her eyes off you when you're in the room!"

Jon paused, considering what she said.

"You really think so?"

"YES!"

So Jon decided to act. Even if Arya didn't like him, he would kick himself for years to come if he didn't at least try to find out.

They agreed to spend Valentines evening together. Not in a romantic way, but just to hang out and watch some crappy TV shows or something.

Well, that's how Arya understood it anyway.

Jon had different plans.

He was going tell her how he felt.

Jon lay the finishing touches to his master plan, and now all he felt was the nervousness which sat in his stomach like a heavy meal. Before him was a cosy little den, made from the sofa, and some expertly crafted handiwork with some bedsheets and footstools to make a comfy (and slightly romantic) seating area, in direct view of the TV. Jon also had some chocolates to hand on the table, which he knew would go down a treat. He decided against rose petals and candles on his mother's advice, she told him it was a little too keen.

Instead, he clutched a bouquet of winter roses in his hand, much like he had two years ago to the day, the same anxiety playing with his mind. He took a deep breath.

DING DONG!

Opening the door, Arya stood before him. She'd opted for a kind of smart-casual look, sporting a pink and white striped jumper and tight jeans (very tight jeans, Jon's eyes told him). It was different to her usual attire, especially when coming to see him. Looking at her face, he could see that she'd lightly curled her hair, and even had some makeup on (none on the eyes though, which she deemed a form of torture).

She looked absolutely stunning.

She beamed at him, and her eyes widened when she saw the flowers in his hand.

"Hiya… I got you some petaled things." He awkwardly pointed his arm towards Arya, so she could take them. She blushed slightly.

"Thank you… you really didn't need to you know."

"Well I saw them, and I thought they were kind of pretty, and I thought of you because you're kind of pretty… but not in an objective way or anything! And not just kind of, you have lots of qualities that-"

"Jon!" Arya interrupted him, her blush reddening slightly, but her face also etched with humour. "You're gabbling."

"Sorry… I just, thought you would like them."

"I do. Thank you, Jon, they're lovely." She smiled at the flora she held in her hands, closing her eyes as she did so. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well…" Jon led her into the living room, and she gasped at the den he'd prepared.

"How long did this take you?" she asked, moving towards it.

"Oh, you know, not long."

"Specifically."

"Well… a couple of hours maybe? Maybe three… or four…"

"It's taken you all day hasn't it?"

"Maybe. Anyway, meaningless details."

"No it isn't. Thank you, for setting this up…you sappy little shit." She ended the sentence with some force and humour, elbowing him in the ribs, having noticed herself getting lost in her thoughts as she talked. It wasn't lost on Jon either, as he laughed a humourless laugh in response.

Maybe his mother was right.

A sudden surge of confidence raced through him.

"So what do you want to watch?" he asked, sitting on the sofa, noting how comfortable it was with his handiwork.

"I don't mind, we could find something on Netflix unless you had something in mind?"

"No… let's do that."

Arya plopped down on the sofa next to Jon, snuggling into his side. Jon felt his body heat up, the warmth rushing through him filling every part of his essence.

This felt right.

They watched the Wolf of Wall Street on Netflix, feeling each other's laugh vibrate through the surroundings. The movie ended, and Jon looked to Arya, who looked back at him. She smiled.

"Hey." She said.

"Hey." He said back. "So… um… there's something I wanted to tell you."

She sat up, her eyebrows slightly raised, looking at him expectantly.

"Well… we've been friends for years right?" she nodded. "And I know we make great friends because, well, like, we know each other. But I was doing some thinking, well a lot of thinking really… but not like so much that it's weird, or anything… sorry I'm getting off point… the fact is that I feel like we're really close, and I've been feeling like we've been getting… more close, and that maybe we could… if you wanted to, of course, potentially… maybe… be slightly more than friends?"

Arya watched him babble uncomfortably much to her amusement. He was often like this, unable to form coherent sentences when it came to anything emotional. It was one of the things she loved about him.

"Shut up you idiot." She grabbed him by the shirt and pushed her lips against his, obviously taking him by surprise. Despite his initial confusion, he quickly adapted and settled into the kiss as it lingered and became more passionate. A hard-fought game of tongue-boxing was fought, Arya eventually surrendering and let Jon explore her mouth. She moaned as the kiss continued to deepen, falling on top of Jon's chest as she pushed him onto his back, and she moved to lie on top of him.

Separating briefly for the unfortunate necessity of oxygen, they locked eyes.

"Your brother is going to kill me." Jon panted, a stupid smile on his face which made Arya blush even more.

"Do me a favour, don't mention my brother when I'm trying to kiss you."

"Sorry."

And they were back at it. Jon couldn't help but feel elated. In spite of all his nervous tendencies and the chants of "you know nothing", it turned out he did know some things.

Jon moved to kiss her neck and the rest of her face, while she ran her hands through his hair, massaging his scalp. She kissed his lips again and whispered in his ear.

"I love you, Jon."

"I love you too, Arya."

Maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all.

THE END