"I don't understand why you just can't talk to him."

This isn't the first time Dany's heard of this from Missy, in fact it isn't the first time she's heard of it today. She sighs and shakes her head in response, tugging on her cold glass of peach berry sangria.

"It isn't like you haven't feigned accidents before just to get a boy to talk to you."

Dany gasps in response, wide eyed and completely appalled that her best friend is using previous actions against her. And to bring it up to light in such a public setting! "Please, that was one time and it was because he was completely out of my league!" Shifting in her seat, she begins to fan her heated cheeks, adding, "Besides, you make it sound so much better than what actually happened. I dropped my book on purpose for Mr. Jorah on our last day of Modern European Lit Just to get him to stay longer than he needed to and then the rest of my years at KLU went by without ever seeing him again."

In hindsight, the crush would have never led anywhere besides endless daydreams at 6PM, cramming for essays that were due by midnight.

Missy slips into a fit of laughter as Dany takes a long swig of her drink. "Of all the professors you could have acted coy with from King's Landing University, it had to be Mr. Jorah fucking Mormont. He was like– 15 years older than us. More."

So she's into older men with a little bit of gruff in them, so what? Grumbling, she replies defensively, "He was really kind and smart, okay? He was well spoken, articulate, so, so, so intelligent." The latter of her statement ends up sounding more wistful than intended, specially with the unintentional sigh that she isn't able to hold back. "And you can't deny the fact that he was really fit for his age."

"Seven hells, you had such the hots for him when there were other younger professors. Like Jaime Lannister— or if you really are a stickler for old men, Ned Stark."

Now it's time for Dany to giggle wildly, picking at her untouched fish fry, left abandoned as soon as the subject of men came up.

Today's topic: her hot, brooding neighbor whose name she hasn't gotten yet because she's been too cowardly to strike a conversation. It's one thing to appreciate good eye candy, another to actually speak to them.

"You know, he kind of reminds me of Ned Stark. In a way." Missy raised her eyebrows at her, leaning forward in curiosity. Dany's happy to feed as she continues. "Very northerner— brooding eyes, dark brown hair, rough on the edges sort of man. But maybe it's because of the full beard they both share."

"If the day comes when you actually have to make conversation with him and you're stuck with what to say, just start with, 'nice beard ' and I bet he'll take it as a compliment."

At this point Dany's sure the entire restaurant hates the both of them, even convinced that the restaurant owner Tyrion Lannister, the younger brother of both Dany's and Missy's former professor, will kick them out. Casterly Rock is a penchant for fine dining goers after all and the last thing the management needs is a pile of complaints over two giggling women, behaving the way school girls do when discussing their crushes.

If there's one thing Dany is guilty of not working on even after promising herself that she would, it'd have to be her poor habit of checking the weather app before she leaves her apartment. Much to her dismay (because clearly the Old Gods and the new clearly hate her), the rain catches up to her just in time as she's stepping outside the parking garage across from her building. The skies couldn't even spare her the walk from the stoplight to the building itself.

But perhaps it's a blessing in disguise.

She runs hurriedly to take cover beneath the vacant bus stop, a loud bolt of thunder splits across the roaring sky. She jolts in surprise and as if on cue, another joins to take shelter with her. She turns and a small gasp falls from her lips. The man runs a hand through his features and Dany almost drools, knees melting into liquid. He's so close to her that she can see all the lines in his face, the small ticking of his temporal muscles as he clenches his jaw, the slope of his nose, his lips, his jaw. She swallows thickly and feels the weight of her body buck at her ankles.

Someone please tell her she's hallucinating.

Clearly not when she feels a delicate touch to her elbow, prepared to steady her on her feet when he feels her swaying sidewards. Now it's clear as day who she's face to face: her hot neighbor that inhabits each crevice of her mind, the very object of every conversation she's had with Missy every single day of the entire week while procrastinating at her paperworks at hand.

Fuck.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Suddenly conscious of how she must look, the frizz atop her head, the fabric of her dress that she feels clinging tightly to her curves— fuck. This isn't how she imagined meeting the dark haired eyecandy from next door. If anything, something more 'organic' and mundane. Running into each other at the elevator, picking up mail at the same time, while she's running and he's walking the two huskies she's seen him walk around the block (totally not in a stalkerish way and also her favorite possibility if asked), any other way other than this.

"Is a'right." He assures her with a smile, a million dollar smile, all teeth and white and pearl, pale in comparison to the sun. Literally, since it can't be found in today's forecast apparently. "Some shit luck we have, aye?"

Northerner. The accent definitely gives it away. She doesn't know what makes her think she'll be able to look at him because when she does, the inner of her thighs turn jelloid, soft and limp as she swoons to the bone.

"This is what I get for not checking the weather app more." She feels like it took her forever to find her voice. Ironically, she hates casually talking about the weather and yet here they are.

He sighs in a defeated way, looking up momentarily and back at her. "You and I both." She watches as he runs a hand through his dampened chocolate brown locks, tied to a bun on the back of his head.

"You live here?" He motions to the building across and she nods.

It's the last thing on her mind because her gaze falls pixated to his jaw, his neck, the glorious spread and fade of his beard.

The last time she saw him was a few weeks prior at the lobby where he engaged in a conversation with the receptionist, overhearing enough to assume it's baseball they were talking about. He looked like he just finished his round of walking his dogs, the two huskies sprawled to the floor like a decorative fur rug welcoming all of the building residents. His facial hair then looked a little longer than a 5 o'clock shadow but it seems like the growth of it became rather steadfast. Now it has completely closed out to his temple, neatly trimmed and shaved as it fades a few inches down his neck.

If there's one thing she's absolutely weak for, it'd have to be facial hair.

"What's your name?"

His voice cuts her train of thought and she realizes that he's probably just introduced himself and it's something she missed. She inwardly kicks herself in the back of her leg for being so easily distracted. "Daenerys— Dany. Call me Dany." Shaking her head, she flashes an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't." There it was again, that blinding smile. "My name's Jon. Jon Snow."

He stretches a hand for her to shake and she reaches forward. The sky splits into an agonizing crack as another bolt of lightning strikes against the sky. She jerks and grips tightly at his hand, letting go quickly in embarrassment. "Sorry," sheepishly pulling away, she adds, "It's nice to meet you. I'm not very fond of lightning."

"Not to worry, I get it." He chuckles.

She supposes she has to carry the conversation now or else it'll die, yet she doesn't want to seem desperate for it either. "I've seen you around, I think." Play it cool, Dany. You got it. Here's to organic conversations, right? "Unless you've got a doppelgänger living on the 5th floor?"

His features break into a small grin. "The thought of having a lookalike living in the same building as you is both fascinating and terrifying."

At that she couldn't help but bemuse, "Let's hope he doesn't own two giant dogs or else it'd be a freaky coincidence"

"Not going to lie, I'd actually be really spooked" He laughs quietly, pulling at the sleeves of his jacket. "I haven't been living here for long, it's only been a few months. You?"

A sense of relief washes through her that he doesn't think of her as strange yet. Or a prowler for that matter, since she made it known that she's observed him with his dogs so casually. "A year or so— I got an internship through KLU at several companies affiliated with one another at The Riverlands after graduating. The city's too populated at King's Landing, not to mention super expensive so.." trailing off with a shrug, she adds, "I found myself cooped here."

"Smart girl." He nods a few times before looking ahead. "My father uh— he teaches at KLU."

Dany's eyes widen so much, she feels them almost bulging out her sockets. "No."

"Yeah, he taught.. something with pre-law. Dunno whatsit called, really."

She feels a lump forming at her throat, in complete disbelief over how small the universe is. "I took pre-law at KLU."

This time it's Jon's turn to stare at her wide eyed, mouth slightly ajar. "No."

"Yes!" She laughs, too loud for her liking but she's too intrigued and curious now.

"Ned Stark."

"Shut up."

His face breaks into a goofy grin, the brightest of them all since they started talking. Such a contrast to what she's used to seeing whenever he's in the lobby. "Yep. That's Dad. Sort of."

Sort of? She doesn't know what that means but she unconsciously looks past it because she still can't believe it. What are the odds that he's actually related to Ned Stark, one of the only decent professors at KLU? And not just in the looks category, but a professor that actually took care of his students and nurtured them to their best interest? "Holy shit, who would have thought I'd be stuck in a waiting shed in the middle of a shit storm with Ned Stark's son."

A gluttoral chuckle blossoms from Jon and she almost swells with pride that she's the reason behind that. "It's been a minute though. He went back to Winterfell after retiring a year ago. I haven't been to visit since Christmas."

So they are from the North. "Is your job that demanding that you can't drive the hour and a half trip over?"

"I wouldn't say demanding," he says rather feebish. "Ever heard of Night's Watch? I run the brewery and it gets a little busy."

Dany doesn't know why but now that she can take a good look at him (and appreciate him up close), it's a little hard to put an occupation to his face. Nothing seems to fit and she definitely wouldn't have expected bar owner— and yet it suits him.

"Ah, so you're an ale aficionado of some sort, eh? I'm a lightweight and completely ignorant of alcohol and beer so I can't say I'm a good candidate for conversations regarding that but if you promise your sangria is good then trust me when I say I'll keep coming back for it."

There's another crack of a smile to his features, gleaming like a silver lining and she can't help but curse inwardly that the rain is choosing to stop now. Not when she's finally warming up to converse. Because instead of him replying to that opportunity (missed, thank you, weather), he's pointing up to say, "Looks like we can cross the roads now."

She forces a smile, toothy and awkward. "Seems like it."

He looks both ways of the street before motioning a hand out, as if to let her go first and she's momentarily distracted. Chivalry, even when it's just a teaspoon of it, is quite a rarity and she'll take it anytime, anywhere. She leads the way, waiting for him to follow in suit.

Just when a toll of silence kicks in, he retorts, "I wouldn't call myself an ale aficionado though, I'd give that title to the other men I work with who really get down with their hands to brew."

She's ecstatic that he's continuing the conversation.

"How long have you owned the place for?" He holds the door for her and she follows in suit.

"Not long— but I've been on it for a long time now. A mentor of mine ran it up until he retired last year. I was the accountant for his business investments and this franchise just hits home."

There's a glint of passion over his eyes that makes her absentmindedly smile. She presses the button for the elevator and instantly the doors open. Couldn't it have waited a bit more to open so that she could have more time with Jon? Slipping inside, she keeps a distance from him, pressing their elevator floor.

"Well, how about you? What do you do exactly?"

"I'm a paralegal.. of some sort." It's always so hard to explain to others exactly what she does, especially since she's in a stage of in-between, work and grad school. "I have to go back to school if I want to take my boards and I've kind of been procrastinating. I'll get there though."

"Well, listen— you should come by sometime to the bar, corner of 5th and 6th. Sangria is on me and if anyone gives you a hard time, just give them the code name White Wolf and they'll know."

She snorts as the doors crack open. "White wolf. your street name?"

"Something like that."

Hard liquor isn't something that Dany's grown to ever like but neither is wine. So when both Missy and Margaery pop up on her front doorstep with a bottle of chardonnay, she isn't exactly exhilarated. If anything she's disappointed that Val has once again decided to ditch them.

"So tell me more about this Jon Snow. " Margaery plops down next to Missy on the couch who's too occupied with the task at hand: searching up Jon Snow on social media (a task which she's doing very poorly at, considering she hasn't found any trace of him. Yet). Margaery is giving Dany an all too knowing look, as if there's more that happened other than the casual fact that they bumped into each other at the waiting shed the other day and that she finally got his name.

"I've already told you guys everything." Rolling her eyes, she reaches out for the bottle of orange juice from the fridge, deciding that it's better than water. "He said Ned Stark is his father. He runs The Night's Watch. He has two dogs. That's it. Like I said," she trails off, soon joining both her friends on the couch to sit on the very end of it. "It was a very brief interaction."

Missy stops and arches a brow. "Oh, that's right. Ned Stark is his father." Pursing her lips together, she adds, "Do you think he goes by that surname then? Stark?"

Even if she were to ask Missy to give it a break, she knew her friend wouldn't. So instead she gives her a half shrug, sighing exasperatedly before reaching out for the remote control of the television. "Who knows." Wistfully clicking from one application to the other, she finally settles that she'll check which movies are leaving on HBO. "He said Jon Snow, so Jon Snow it is."

"Bugger." Another sigh of disappointment as Missy rests her head onto Margaery's shoulder, appearing to be in deep thought.

"He said he runs The Night's Watch, right?" She clarifies, turning slightly to Dany who only gives her a half nod and a disgruntled grunt in response. "Mis, maybe try searching that up exactly. The Night's Watch. It's a common advertisement strategy, you know. Just like how I have Loras running Highgarden's instagram account for me."

Missy's so quick to search up an instagram account for the brewery social that she's jolting off the couch in seconds, bouncing on her feet to exclaim, "OH MY GOD, I FOUND HIM, I FOUND HIM!"

Dany's chest feels like it just dropped from its nest in between her ribs to the pits of her stomach. The apartment is filled with squeals from both Missy and Margaery now and she watches the both of them, unable to utter a word for herself to get in between their successful stalking hunt.

"No way, let me see!" Margaery's high pitched laughter had never been more ear shattering and Missy eagerly gives her the phone, pointing at the screen animatedly.

At this point Dany is leaning sidewards to look at the phone on Margaery's hand, HBO long forgotten as a background distraction.

Missy whistles while Margaery clicks her tongue at the screen that loads, one of the several photographs within the same post. Jon seated at the center of two women, one redhead and one dark haired. Jon has his arm around the dark haired brunette's shoulder and she's got both arms around his waist, squeezing his center and clearly laughing when it was taken. The redhead is perched on her knees at what looked like a booth seating at his bar, both hands resting on top of his head.

"That's him, innit? Jon Snow, right there, on the tagged pages of The Night's Watch's instagram account." Missy triumphantly announces as if both her best friends didn't already know.

"The brunette's got to be his sister." Margaery zooms at the dark haired face a bit and Dany does catch the resemblance. Aside from the same hair color, there's certain facial features that are too similar to be denied. "The redhead though.."

Is beautiful, is all Dany could think. She didn't look anything like Jon, contrasting eye colors with his dark chocolate and hers cerulean blue. Her hair fiery red like the way everything about her screamed, moreso evident from the next photograph that Margaery swipes to. It's the both of them photographed in the middle of an embrace, pulled away as if they were talking though adoration evident in their gazes. She's got both hands on his shoulders this time and his at her waist, a happy smile pulled to the woman's lips.

Dany knows what both Missy and Margaery are thinking, 99.9% chance that it's the same as what she has in mind. It's Missy that breaks the silence though and finally addresses the elephant in the room.

"Do you think they're together? 'S.' No first name, no last name." Reading her instagram description, she continues, "Part time traveling nurse, full time angel.. you know, I wouldn't even be surprised if Val knew both or either of them."

Margaery nods. "I don't know how she knows everyone somehow, she doesn't even have social media."

The mention of their other friend makes Dany frown. Even back in college she was always notorious for skipping out on their plans, always sprouting with an excuse to not go out.

"Can I just say, his hair is gorgeous.." Missy trails off, biting at her lower lip. "Just the right amount of gruff."

"Not to mention, his shoulders and chest in those pictures," Margaery fails to stifle a giggle. "Even with a shirt on it looks like it'd be wonderful to probe."

Dany's lips form into a smirk as she exchanges glances with her friends, watching as they scroll through older posts. The second one they find where Jon is in is a photograph of him and the redhead again. Jon is biting into a cupcake and is in midlaughter, with the redhead's lips pressed to his cheeks. He's got frosting smeared to his nose.

" Baked the birthday boy his favorite lemon cupcakes ." Margaery reads aloud the caption, fixating on the date it was posted. "December 28– what's that? Capricorn?"

Missy hums beneath her breath. "Explains the introverted vibes he gave off, Dan." She extends her index finger to the screen where it says there's another account tagged, Jon's username appearing on his face.

The three of them fall into a unison gasp as Margaery clicks on 'whitewolf89,' Dany holding her breath until finally met with a blank white page with only several texts on the screen, including a blue button that says, ' Follow .'

Of course he's got a private account, of fucking course.

As much as Dany has been putting it off, it's about time she put a dent on grad school applications. This long weekend request wasn't placed for pleasure after all and if she doesn't do it now, then when?

Queen of procrastination though, she holds back on setting herself in front of the computer, doing anything but: she'd fed her three cats, vacuumed the entire floor after weeks of it being unkempt (the flying hairballs have littered every corner and today felt like the perfect day to get it cleaned) and now she's waiting for her keurig to brew her vanilla latte of the day. Should she have gone to Mel's instead for that perfect brew? Perhaps she could in a few hours, though she'll try her luck at the pasties instead since too much caffeine never did her any good.

Regardless, she's sure that a gulp of coffee will get her creative juices going. She'll finally get to work and get started on that painfully long application she has to get done. Today will be the day, just as long as she doesn't get distracted again.

But as soon as she's seated on her table and she's taken that first sip from her heaven in a warm mug, a flash of crimson flashes through her eyes. Outside she spots Jon with the same redhead from the instagram posts, sunkissed and beautiful with just the right amount of sun shining down to accentuate her facial structures. Whatever it is that he said must have been hilarious because she's laughing uncontrollably, clutching at her stomach with one hand, the other locked into a vice grip at a dog leash. He's talking to her so animatedly that Dany almost feels envious.

Not that she wishes to be her at the very moment (but a small part of her kind of does), only that she also wants and seeks what they have. At least what she thinks they have. They were a sight for sore eyes and as she takes another gulp of her hot drink, she can't help but think how lovely they'd be for a coffee commercial.

Dany watches the scene unfold before her. The redhead exhales and grabs at his arm, linking through the nook of Jon's elbow while tugging at the leashes of their dogs. There's a content smile on both of her faces as they head back to the building. She curls at his side, resting a head against the crook of his neck, cozy and warm and looking a lot like she was home.

The next time Dany allows herself to think of Jon isn't intentional, more so accidental. It had been three agonizing weeks since she submitted her requirements to all of the prospective graduate schools and while one had gotten back to her for a secured place she would have, it isn't the university she's been the most hopeful to hear from.

As she sorts through credit card offers and community ads (a local pizzeria opened by and there's several coupons she keeps in mind to save), she thinks, another day where no letter from University of Westeros came in.

A sigh drags along her lips as she picks up a package beneath her unit cubby, falling in line for the elevator as she mentally sorts which envelope is going to the shredder bin and which she should probably open. It isn't until she's inside that she looks down at the package she scooped up, assuming it's the new Clinique toner she's been dying to try for weeks now— but she freezes in place as the elevator door to her floor opens.

On the recipient line reads ' Jon Snow, ' the label's font bold and clear. She looks up as a soundless gasp escape her lips.

"Is this your floor?"

She meets the gaze of an impatient neighbor and frantically, nods and stumbles out of the lift. She apologizes under her breath but she doubts he even hears it, though she can feel him shaking his head as the doors shut close. The only thing she can think of is the package that has Jon's name and her heartbeat that's surged up.

Sender, a Theon Greyjoy from Pyke, Iron Island to Jon Snow of Westeros. It's definitely his name yet her address on the label and she wonders what kind of error could this be. Could this Theon Greyjoy have really written the address incorrectly? Or is it the universe really ridiculing her, mocking at her lack of luck when it comes to always being attracted to taken men?

Taking a deep breath, she passes by her unit and stops when she reaches his.

Immediately she can smell something cooking, perhaps baked chicken and potatoes immersed with garlic and herbs. It smelled good and subtly reminded her that she hadn't eaten anything nutritious the entire day. She can also hear music and laughter, a female's voice singing along to a song's chorus. It felt like birds idly flew over sunrise's kisses, April's teasing breeze to winter's demise. She had a very good singing voice, airy and light, tender and delicate.

She finally knocks.

Almost instantly she regretted it. Does she leave the package at the front door? It didn't matter, did it? Why did she have to knock anyway when she could have just left the box there, leaving for them to discover it in their own time? She inwardly groans and takes a step back, miscalculating her decisions gravely but it's too late now.

Dany finds herself face to face with the mysterious woman in Jon's life, her lips full and stretched into a beautiful beam. She's clad in a beige silk robe, her hair damp with a faint smell of peaches and cream. Her skin is sunkissed porcelain, clear and blemish free, eyes radiant like the shade of the ocean. She's even more pretty up close, and seven hells, this woman is 90% legs.

"Hi. May I help you?"

Dany begins to clear her throat. Her mouth feels like it's drying up and her throat is closing in on her. It hangs open, scrambling for what to say and when she finally does, another voice interrupts.

Jon's.

"Are those damn towels still in the dryer?"

The two women stare at one another in silence, a beat passing by.

"Sans, make yourself useful for once and get me one of the towels, why don't you?" It's Jon again, a distinct mirth and playfulness in his voice.

The woman rolls her eyes, bellowing with, "Won't you shut up and give me a moment? There's someone at the door—"

"Oh, I'm so sorry." It's then that Dany finally finds her voice, heat flooding her cheeks into a shade of crimson. The redhead looks like she's about to rebut an assurance of it being alright but she continues. "It's— I— there's.." she trails off breathlessly and flustered, staring at the other woman before gathering her bearings with a deep breath. "This package was mistakenly addressed to me but it's got er— Jon's name."

She pushes (kinda shoves) the box towards the woman's hands, Sans or whatever her name is, and before she can even give a response, Dany's already walking back to her apartment unit, fumbling with her keys as she waves, "Hope the both of you have a great night!"

Before her door closes behind her, she thinks she hears Jon's faint voice, asking, "Sansa, who was it?"

On most nights, Dany found herself complaining about the excruciating wait for University of Westeros's law program acceptance letters but not tonight: as soon as she saw the U of W letter come in through the mail she had ripped the envelope into shreds, collapsing in a puddle of tears to the floor when she read the first sentence. We are pleased to welcome you to our law program starting this fall semester.

"Dany, oh darling! I'm so proud of you!"

Missy, who had been texting on her phone beside Dany, is suddenly a screaming mess, loud squeals spilling from her lungs.

The entire crowd blocking the sidewalk stares at the source of noise. Dany's face ripples into a comical smile, hiding her face in mock shame as Margaery runs her direction. The blonde beauty tosses her arms around her as soon as she's within arms length, pulling her into a tight embrace before holding both sides of her face to kiss her on each cheek.

"Oh, thanks Marge." Pulling away, she asks, "Val not with you tonight? I thought she was coming along?"

"You know how she is." The three of them roll their eyes, but Margaery adds, "She said she'll make it tonight though, just that she's running late. Apparently she really likes this place and knows the owner. Probably the older owner and I don't even know how."

"From ' what's taking them so long to send out those acceptance letters,' to ' what's taking this damn law program to finish.' " Missy guffaws from her other side, linking their arms together. "I've had about enough whingering from this one so tonight's a small celebration of some sort— to law school!"

Dany glances at her, lips juttering out as she defends, "I do not whinge!"

"You kind of do." Margaery retorts, raising a brow.

"I do not!" She persists even though there's doubt laced in her voice. "Anyways, where are we going tonight? I thought you'd made reservations?" She turns to look at Missy, then back at Margaery. "Or was it you who made the reservations?"

"I did, but Marge decided." Missy says in an almost mischievous tone.

Margaery looked just as suspicious though, her rouge painted lips stretching into a tight lipped smile. "We're having dinner and drinks at The Night's Watch."

As expected, the pub's crowd is three times more than the usual on this Friday evening, especially with it being game day. Hockey or Basketball or whatever it is, they're all the same to her. Bottom line, Dany could never understand the appeal of any of them.

Had it not been for Margaery's reservations, the girls would have had to join the line that flocked the outside of the pub, eagerly waiting for a table, even if just bar seating. Despite its location only being a few blocks away from her apartment, Dany's never really batted an eye or showed a dash of interest in dining at the spot. But as soon as she saw the layout of the restaurant, she immediately understood the appeal.

The two level warehouse setting had a spacious layout filled with tables suited for all sorts of gatherings in the middle and two different bars to the side. Lined up with televisions and what looked like an extensive collection of alcohol, Dany also saw the appeal of spending quiet, weekday game nights at a place like this. The very back seems to offer more recreational space, with two pool tables, several arcade machines, bags, and all sorts of games. The interior structural design is a mixture of modern, industrial, and vintage themes, with a sense of the space having multiple bars and pubs all wrapped into one building.

"This place is bigger than I thought." Dany murmurs under her breath, continuing to oggle the bar while following the other two to their table.

Margaery nods as she takes a seat across them, reaching over for the drinks menu right away. "There's more upstairs, I think some private space for parties and several karaoke rooms— which reminds me, there's also a photobooth there too and we have to get one for tonight!"

Missy nods eagerly as they order for their first round of cocktails. "Let's!"

While the two plan out what they'd like to do for the rest of the night, from the rest of their drinks to main dishes to possible games they could play, all Dany could think about is the possibility of running into Jon. In a place as big as this, will there even be a slight chance? More importantly, is he even around?

Ugh, she thinks. Dany, get over it with this crush you've got, you're like a puppy.

Dany's thoughts are halted when she feels a pair of arms wrapping around her from behind, a waft of cherry blossom filling her senses. Long strands of dark honey blonde drape over her face and she leans over to the side, breaking out into the biggest smile yet when she sees it's Val.

"Oh, you shameless woman!" Dany cries, turning herself around to give her a tight embrace. "You've been ditching us so much these days and for what?"

Missy and Margaery both have gotten up to greet the blonde as well, circling around her as they exchange hugs and kisses. Their server returns to serve them drinks, with Val following up with her own order.

"I promise, all for good causes." She smiles at them so charismatically, in the way that always gets Dany awestruck. While Dany was never the wallflower of the group, she's definitely not the enigma Val is. She was so desirous in everything she did. "I told you guys I was switching from days to nights and it's been such a drag. These 12 hour shifts are killing me but they pay a little more so what can I do?"

Missy reaches for her drink. "Still working at University of Westeros Hospital?"

Val nods, meeting Dany's line of gaze. "And soon enough, you'll be joining me for dinner whenever classes are running late for you." Dany groans quietly, not even ready to talk about it.

"I love this place though." Val continues as she flags a waiter to order a drink. "I know the owner, Jon."

The three others gape at her in that instant, the casualty of her statement catching them all off guard.

"How?"

"Since when?"

"Did you know that he's Dany's hot neighbor?"

Val stares at the three of them and turns her head at Margaery's direction in a swift, quick motion. "What? Jon is the hot neighbor that Dany can't stop talking about?"

Dany shoots them a look. "Gods, please! Can we stop referring to him by that! What if someone who knows him hears us?"

"Like me?" Val asks teasingly, snickering at the death glare she earns from the other blonde. "I kind of knew his ex, this one redhead named Ygritte."

Missy's eyebrows shoot up at that. "So he has a thing for redheads, huh." Propping an elbow at the table, she rests her cheeks on a closed fist, turning to Dany to comment, "Babe, you wouldn't look so bad with red hair. Maybe start looking into reliable hair dye brands."

Val's eyebrows furrow. "I think Ygritte's the only redhead he's dated. That I know of."

Margaery takes a sip of her Moscow mule. "You seem to be close to this Jon Snow."

She shakes her head. "Not really, I just know his notoriety when it comes to being single."

Now it's Dany's turn to look at her with confusion, ready to bring up that she saw a redhead in his apartment when a mishap with their packages occured. However, she's cut short when a commotion from the staircases arises, a large group of people beginning to sing ' happy birthday .'

The four of them turn their attention towards the crowd, with a bee line of staff trailing to the bottom of the staircase, a cake lit up with sprinklers in the hand of a male staff. Dany realizes that it's the same redhead from Jon's apartment, clad in a little bustier black dress and yellow statement earrings. Her fiery hair is pulled back into a messy bun, face radiant in all of her glory and was her contouring on point or what? She looks stunning.

"Hey, I think that's.."

Before Dany can even finish her sentence, she catches a glance of the man holding the birthday cake. He turns to his side as everyone claps for the woman to blow out her candles, those gathered cheering loudly. She peppers the man's bearded cheek with kisses, settling to embrace him. He turns around to finally pull away from her and lo and behold, it's Jon, with his long hair gone. Despite this however, he still looks really good with short hair, mused and styled appropriately for whatever seemed to be the occasion.

"Oh, it's Jon!" Val is quick to perch herself up on her seat, standing in her seat with one leg, the other dangling midair. Turning back to the rest of her friends, she flashes them a devilish grin.

Dany knows that look all too well and she begins to shake her head, reaching out as if it would be of any attempt to pull her down. Too late though because in a quick swift moment, Val is whistling loudly with her fingers propped in her mouth.

Soon enough, several waiters flounders to ask for Val to get down from the chair. But Jon's eyes have met Val's line of gaze already and recognition lit up on his features at once.

Dany freezes in place, watching as he excuses himself to the group he's with. She crouches in her seat and hisses at Val who's started to snicker. Margaery and Missy laugh in amusement and she can tell just how much they're enjoying the turn of events tonight. She's panicking like a fish out of water, thoughts scrambling and trying to come up with as many excuses to possible questions the man had.

It doesn't take long for Jon to get to their table, pulling Val in a hug. "What're you doing here, stranger?"

There it is again, the notable gruff in his voice, a sound she didn't think she could miss despite only hearing it twice. There's a certain timbre to it, his calming accent almost musical to her ears and she would have probably spent all night thinking about his linguistics if she didn't feel all of their gazes burning right at her.

It seems like recognition's finally hit him as he exclaims with an exuberant smile, "Dany."

"I had no idea you two were acquainted." She swallows thickly, mentally patting her back for the quick comeback from that. "Val was just telling me about you when we noticed the commotion at the back." Gesturing towards the others, she adds, "These are our other college friends, Missandei and Margaery."

"It's nice to meet you." He smiles, extending a hand for them to shake before turning to Val and Dany. "It's a little busy tonight, aye? Sansa, she– her birthday is coming up and her friends had asked us to help with the surprise. They'll probably be off to the next club so not to worry, one less rowdy crowd in the background." He brushes a hand through his trimmed curls. Dany watches as his slender digits run through his strands, wondering if his mop of hair is as soft as it looked.

Not missing a beat, he ushers for the four of them to sit down, asking, "Has anyone gotten your orders yet?"

Of course it's Missy who answers, flashing him a playful smile as she teases, "Just drinks, but I hear you own this bar. Perhaps we can get some first class service going on here?"

That gets a laugh out of him, glancing directly at Dany. "Fair enough. What can I get for you, love?"

Had the lighting not been dark, her beet tomato cheeks had been clear as day. How is she able to hold up a conversation for this long? Is the place hot or is it just her? Is it possible for someone's heartbeat to be this fast? It's racing with the watch ticking on her wrist and it's hammering wildly against her chest as the term of endearment echoes in her head. His dark brown eyes bores through hers one last time, lips twitched into that damn attractive smile before finally nodding to finalize their orders.

"So," Val crosses a leg over the other beneath the table, hands folding while they all watch Jon walk towards one of the bars. Dany sees a server meeting him halfway, watching the interaction the entire time. She only looks away when he turns back to point at their table, probably instructing where the order is coming from. "Tell me more about this, Dany."

The glare she gives her is quick and deadly. "There's nothing there, he's my neighbor and there's that." Exasperated, she lets a heated sigh out to add, "Besides. Isn't that his girlfriend over there, the redhead? I've seen her at his flat a few times."

It's Val's turn to give Dany a glare, her eyebrow shooting up to her hairline. "Who?" She points at the back where the crowd once had been, now dispersed into small ones. "Sansa? The birthday girl? Oh darling, that's his younger sister."

Two months pass by after her encounter with Job at The Night's Watch. Despite her poorly planned attempts at trying to catch him during his morning and afternoon walks with his dogs or taking chances at the mailboxes, it just seemed like he was never around. At one point, she even drops by the brewery for a quiet weekday dinner only to be told that Jon is out of town. Dany takes it as a sign to give up trying on orchestrating things. Eventually, she forgets the entire ordeal.

It's only a silly little crush after all, no big deal.

She used to daydream about him sometimes, especially when it was raining and she's at home staring out her glass windows, the waiting shed visible from sight.

These daydreams became less and less and soon enough, preparations for law school occured. From decisions on whether or not she signs a new lease or hunt for a new apartment much closer to the university to her last day at work, there was too much to think about leaving little room for Jon to occupy her mind.

But on a murky day like this when the rain is heavy and the skies are dark, she'll allow her thoughts to dawdle. She hops off at the bus stop right across her apartment building, taking refuge at the roof the shed provides. It's come in handy more often than she'd like to admit, since up until now she still has not broken her habit of not checking the weather before she leaves.

Her legs aching, feet throbbing, she finally sinks to the bench and sighs.

Today was her first day back in school and despite feeling prepared for the load, she still felt thrown under the fire. The professors had not been clear cut with their lectures (nor their introductions for that matter) but were very intent on the homeworks due in two days time, her planner already piled with important dates and exams.

Dinner with Val this Friday? From the looks of it, she'll probably have to take a rain check on that.

"You got room for one more on that bench?"

Her head jerks to the presence at her side and she scoots away instinctively. Her gaze trails up and she's flabbergasted, with Jon staring down at her with an umbrella in hand.

Of all the days she bumps into him, it had to be today. When her eyes are bloodshot, hair frazzled into a mess, face blotchy with anxiety. But she nods and carefully scoots, gathering her belongings and books to her lap.

"Long time no see." She tries to sound casual and nonchalant.

He nods, his upper lip twitching into a smile. He looks a lot like the first time they bumped into each other under this waiting shed, long hair tied into a man bun behind his head, his sharp jaw lined with a perfectly trimmed beard. "Aye, it's been a minute."

She agrees and holds his gaze and for a second it feels like everything is just background noise, the rain serving as white noise to this moment. "U-um, how've you been?"

"Busy." A long sigh drags from his lips, leaning back slightly before turning to her again. "Actually just got back from Winterfell the other day. Dad's birthday was last week and my siblings and I all threw him a surprise birthday trip. It was good."

A smile begins to form on her mouth as she listens to him, the glint in his eyes endearing as he spoke of family. "You sound extremely close to them."

"I am. And you? Any siblings? Family live close by?"

She nods, wringing her wrists at the mention of them. "My parents live in Dragonstone. My oldest brother lives there too, with his wife and three kids. As for my other older brother.." she trails off at the thought of Viserys, shrugging with a crooked smile. "He comes and goes. Don't really know where he's around or what he's up to. Last time I heard from him he was living in Ibiza."

Jon chortles a laugh and she hums in unison. "Sounds like a bachelor's dream."

"Aye." She mimics his accent playfully, nodding.

His smile widens even more. "That was good."

"Pretty proud of that imitation."

There's a comfortable silence between them now, the only audible sounds are the faint noise of traffic and the sound of rain hitting the ground. Jon breaks that momentarily. "And you?" His eyes are warm as he holds her own, searching her gaze so tenderly.

She wonders if he speaks to everyone like this. She figures he has to because it seemed like something he'd be good at.

"And me."

"What have you been up to?"

She considers making a teasing remark, to tell him she actually spent a few weeks mulling about his whereabouts, taking chances on bumping into him, childishly hoping it'd occur. But she doesn't have any abilities when it comes to flirting, nor does she want to sound like a creep.

So instead she opts for the boring answer: the truth.

"It was my first day of school today. Law school." She captured a tendril of long blonde hair with her index, tugging it behind an earlobe.

His features light up and he exclaims, "Congratulations! How'd it go?"

Her eyebrows quirk together as she breathes out, "Honestly? Terrible."

He's bursting into laughter as she begins to rant about her day, from the way she almost missed the bus to forgetting an umbrella despite vowing to always keep one in her bag just in case. The conversations flow and they stay under the waiting shed for a while, even after the storm passes by.

"I'm sorry to hear about that." He's patting her on the back by the time she's finished counting all the reading assignments she's got, calling for at least ten more before the week is through.

Holding her face in both palms, she groans, "I really have to reassess my reasons for wanting to go back into this hell of a place."

"You'll be great." He assures her, the gruff in his voice warm and amiable.

She sighs, nodding before realizing, "Oh, we can cross now."

"Yeah, I was thinking—" he licks his lips and fixes the strap of his bag along his shoulder, pointing at nothing in particular with his thumb. "Maybe we can grab dinner somewhere close by, walking distance? Relief you from the bad day you had and end it in a good note?"

Dany takes a deep breath, thinking of all the times she really plotted to bump into him. That time when she really thought he was dating his younger sister. The warmth in his tone when he took her order. What can I get for you, love? She never really got over that, did she? And as silly as it was, the thought of being able to talk to this good looking neighbor of hers by chance occurred to her mind so much that it was something she almost looked forward to.

What a terrible thing to admit that she had a grade school-like crush on the boy next door and that of all the ways she's imagined of bumping into him, the thought of him asking her to have dinner with her like this never occurred to her?

Her eyes flutter as her mouth wrinkles into a smile, tugging at her hardcover books once more to her chest. "Well, if we're being honest my day turned upside down and instantly got better when we started talking but dinner would honestly be the cherry on top."