9. The Green- Eyed Monster
Sansa opens her eyes to the dimly lit room, though it is daytime no-one has opened the thick drapes. The aching in her skull ebbs and flows like a cold tide, as if a balloon under was her cranium, slowly being inflated and the pressure mounting. She understood at once why they call it a hangover, for it feels as if the blackest of clouds are over her head with no intention of clearing until late afternoon.
From the pounding head, vomit taste in her mouth and dehydrated feeling, she figured she must have been drinking heavily last night. Her throat felt like sandpaper. It hurt to move.
Lifting her head out from under the duvet, she looks around the unfamiliar room, the soft sheet of the mattress providing her with comfort. A loud beeping noise made the throbbing of her headache even worse. Reaching out a hand she glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table and turned it off; it was six am in the morning.
She squints, dry mouth sticky with thick saliva and moans before retreating under the duvet.
"Hey, you're up then," a voice makes her lift her head out from the duvet.
Looking up she squints her eyes, noticing Jon standing in the doorway. The glimpse of his face made everything rush back to her memory like waves crashing upon the beach.
Jon's dark eyes, her moaning in pleasure, her back arching while his hands…
She has to blink several times in order to focus on his face. She could feel her cheeks flush red as a warmth fills her belly.
"Sansa?" he calls with a concern written on his face.
The deep northern accent of his voice made the ache between her legs even worse. A tingling sensation settled in her stomach.
"Jon," she answers. She opens her mouth to talk, seeing this, Jon cuts her off before she could speak out loud.
"No, Sansa. Don't talk just rest until you feel better. I brought you aspirin with a glass of water."
He holds out the medicine and water towards her. Grabbing this, she gives him a look of gratefulness and then swallows the pill while taking sips of water.
"It'll make you feel better, especially judging by the amount you drank last night," he laughs softly.
"It already does, thank you," she says, already feeling her throat become marginally better after the water.
She could feel his eyes boring into the side of her face, from the corner of her eyes.
"It's a school day today. Do you still want to go?" he questions.
She nods. "Yes, I have to keep up my attendance otherwise it's going to affect my application for university," she sighs tiredly, already regretting her actions from last night.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to. You can stay at my house…my mother not going to be here until late in the evening."
"No, I need to go home to take a shower and change into my uniform. I don't want to be late," she shakes her head.
"One day is not going to make a difference, Sansa. I suggest you should rest for today and get yourself together. You can go tomorrow."
"No, I have to go today. Besides, I was the one who drank last night which means I should take responsibility for my actions. We did say we were going to give us a try, so I shouldn't act like a child," she points out.
Jon goes silent, his eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. His right-hand clenches while he shifts uncomfortably on the spot, near the bed where Sansa was lying.
"Stop that, Jon!" she snaps sharply. "I know what you're thinking."
He locks his dark brown eyes with her blue ones.
"I may have a hangover but I can still tell that you're having doubts about this," she rolls her eyes in exasperation.
Jon looks down, and keeps silent.
Her voice softens, she lets out a sigh. "Look, I know you think I don't remember what happened last night, but I do. Every second of it."
She pauses for a moment, a redness flushes over her cheeks. She clears her throat and continues.
"I remember everything. And I don't regret it. I still meant what I said last night…I love you, nothing is going to change all that," she establishes firmly.
Jon gives a nod, looking up at her. "And I also meant what I said as well, I love you too. I'm sorry for doubting you," he apologies sincerely.
"It's okay, Jon. As long as you come to me the next time you have any doubts. This is only going to work if we both trust each other, not if we're making decisions by ourselves."
"I will. It's not going to be easy, Sansa. We have to be careful, otherwise we're going to get into a lot of trouble," he runs his hands through his messy hair.
"We won't, I'll make sure of it," she promises with resolution.
He gives her a smile and leans into her, lips brushing against each other gently. Sansa pulls back suddenly, starling Jon for a second.
"Jon, you can't kiss me now. I have morning breath," she whines playfully.
He lets out a mirthful laugh, his eyes lighting up in a teasing grin.
"Well no wonder, I kept wondering why something smelled bad," he grins in amusement.
She gives him a playful glare, the sides of her mouth twitching as she clutched the pillow on the opposite side of the bed, and whacks Jon on the side.
He lets out a laugh and leans forward to grab her by the forearms, pulling her into his arms. He couldn't help but notice how well she fit in his arms, as if she was made for him.
"I don't care if you have morning breath. I would kiss my girl, regardless of it," he softly says.
"So, I'm your girl now?" she questions, with a hint of seriousness to the playful tone.
"Of course, you are. I would have it any other way," he looks her the eyes with a tender look.
She gives him a smile, her eyes lit up in joy. With that type of smile aimed at him, Jon knew he would dedicate himself to making sure she smiled like that every day.
If she looked at him like that then, he wouldn't mind doing anything she wanted. It would be worth it in the end.
Sansa could feel her patience waning quickly.
She was tapping her fingertips against the cold and hard, wooden table with her pen tapping infuriatingly against her exercise book. She had a bored expression written on her face while staring at the Mr Mormont, the maths teacher droning on about the equations written on the whiteboard.
Maths was never her best subject. She still got good grades for it, but she hated the subject overall. The stuffy classroom wasn't helping with the whole atmosphere of the tedious lesson. Stiff collars, loose ties and restless expressions were what everybody in the classroom was feeling.
She looked longingly outside the classroom window, spotting the trees outside, billowing in the breeze. Despite being November, the school classrooms became hot very quickly which made it impossible to concrete on the lesson.
She wished Jon was with her. At least then, she could have something to distract her with against the stuffy room.
A loud knock on the knock on the classroom made the majority of the class snap out of their daze and glance towards the door, happy to have a distraction. Looking up from her work, Sansa spots that it's Melisandre, the Philosophy teacher.
"Hello, sir. May I borrow Sansa for a moment please?" she asks looking directly at her.
How did she know her name? Sansa knew she saw the teacher in the hallways when she passed her, and during lunch hours when she stood near Jon. But the other teacher had never actually acknowledged her properly; she mostly just ignored Sansa.
Mr Mormont nods with a dismissive hand, and then turns back around the continue the lesson. Melisandre extends one long finger (lengthened by the false pieces of plastic attached to her nails) and points in Sansa's direction, motioning her to approach.
Nervously, Sansa stands up from her seat, brushes out her skirt and follows her, ignoring the looks of envy thrown her way from the other students.
As they did not have any lessons together, Sansa wondered why the other teacher needed her. A thought occurred to her, her blood running cold.
It could have been about Jon and her, she thought in fear. She must have noticed the way Jon's eyes drifted towards her during those lunch hours and she's probably discovered everything.
Tensing her body, Sansa's mind went into overdrive. She had to protect Jon no matter what happened. He couldn't take the blame. With her heart in her mouth, Sansa prepared herself as they both came to a stop outside in the hallways.
Melisandre reached into the pocket of her jacket, pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it over to Sansa. Giving her confident smirk, Melisandre crossed her arms.
"What is it?" Sansa asks with furrowed eyebrows, glancing at the paper curiously.
Melisandre flaps her hand with a dismissive motion as if to waft away her question.
"It's just about Mr Snow and I going for a… school meeting. Yes, it's just a time and a date for a school meeting."
"So, what do you want me to do with it then?" Sansa asks despite the feeling of disdain arising in her chest.
"I want you to give that to him when you see him. I only work half days so I'm unable to give it to him myself, and I know you're in his class," Melisandre answers.
Without waiting for an answer, the teacher turns her back and walks away from Sansa down the hallway. Sansa tucks the note into the palm of hand while walking back to the classroom. When she reaches her seat, she places the note into her bag, forgetting about it for the remainder of the lesson.
It's not until the end of the lesson, when Margaery asked, that she remembered the letter.
"So, what did the Red Woman want?" Margaery asked walking with Sansa to her next lesson.
"Who?" Sansa questions with confusion.
"Melisandre, obviously. What did she want?" Margaery rolls her eyes.
"Oh. She wanted me to give a note to Mr Snow?"
Sansa had gotten so used to calling Jon by his first name that it became unfamiliar to refer to him by his second. She couldn't mess up though, in case other students became suspicious. She had to be careful, for both their sakes.
"What kind of note? What did it say?"
"I don't know, I'm not supposed to look at it," she sighs in exasperation.
"She likes him you know," Margaery claims with a sly smirk.
"Who? What are you talking about, Margaery?"
"Melisandre. She likes Mr Snow."
Sansa almost stopped in tracks. Her stomach gave a sudden lurch. Swallowing nervously, she takes a deep breath and speaks, hoping her voice was steady.
"What! No! She too old for him anyways," she quickly dismisses.
"She does. And no one cares if she's older, it's not as if she's in her fifties. Also, who's to say that he doesn't like her back. He could, you never know," Margaery teases, unaware of Sansa jaw clenching tightly.
"He doesn't like her," she snaps sharply.
Margaery narrows her eyes in suspicion. "How do you know? He could like her. I mean she is hot."
"She's not," Sansa glares directly in front of her.
"What's up with you? Normally you couldn't wait to find out gossip like this," Margaery points out with a look of confusion.
Sansa gives out a weary sigh. She could still hear the thumping of her heart in her ears. Unclenching her fists, she turns to meet Margaery's expression.
"Sorry, I've just got a headache. I didn't mean to take my anger out on you," she apologies, feeling herself calming down.
"Have you got a hangover?" Margaery's grin grew wider much to Sansa's chagrin. "Oh my God! You do, don't you?"
She keeps silent, choosing to concrete on opening her locker instead.
"You got drunk on a school night. Wow, and I thought you were supposed to be the good girl who follows all the rules," she teases.
Sansa turns around to give Margaery a pointed look, but before she could answer her, Jon walked past them in the hallway. She tried not to stare at him, avoiding his quick glance. She could feel his eyes on her back, a sudden shiver ran down her spine.
She kept her face composed, not wanting Margaery to notice anything out of the ordinary.
"He totally just looked you up and down!" her friend announces gleefully.
"Don't be silly, Margaery. He was probably just looking this way accidently," she hoped her voice was steady enough to conceal the butterflies that wanted to erupt from her stomach.
Margaery raised her eyebrow. "And he just also 'happened' to eye you up as well?" she says sarcastically.
Sansa ignored her, wishing her friend wasn't so perceptive at time.
"I bet his dic- "
"MARGAERY!" she shouts, cutting of what she was about to say.
Her friend throws her head back, and lets out a laugh.
"Oh, lighten up Sansa. Don't be such a prude," Margaery rolls her eyes. "It's not as if you're a virgin anyways."
Sansa was about to open her mouth to answer back, when the school bell rang, indicating it was time for lunch.
"Look, you go on ahead to the canteen, and I'll just give this letter to him quickly and I'll be there," Sansa suggests.
Margaery gives a nod and walks off in the other direction. Sansa heads straight for Jon's classroom, the nerves in her stomach growing larger. She spots him through the door, packing his things up in his bag. Waiting in the corridor for the other students to go out, she reaches into her bag, taking out the note.
Looking at the note, curiosity got the better of her, making her open the notes and decide to read what was written.
Hey, Jon
I was hoping we could go out for a drink sometime soon. I know all the work you do during school must exhaust you, so you might need some relaxation. I'd love to have a deeper conversation with you than in the staff room.
Melisandre.
Sansa lets out a scoff, noticing the phone number written on the bottom of the paper. Most of the boys the school liked the teacher as she was seen as 'hot'. Most of the parents were also powerless to her seductive nature as well, Sansa had come to notice.
Out of all the people she could have had, she wanted Jon instead. The scowl on her face deepen as she felt a burst of jealousy and anger consume her. As she noticed the classroom was finally cleared, she pushed opened the door and walked in.
Jon was cleaning the whitebeard when he turns around and notices Sansa waling in. The smile on his face dims as he notices that she looked angry for some reason.
"Sansa, what are you doing here?"
She walks forward and throws the note onto the desk.
"I got pulled out of Maths to be a delivery girl," she snarls, glaring at him.
Looking at the note on his desk in confusion, he walks round his desk, picks it up and reads it. He lets out a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry about this, this was all her. I had nothing to do with it," he runs his hands through his hair.
"She likes you," Sansa retorts sharply.
"I know, and I keep avoiding her advances. I don't like her, believe me."
He screws up the note in his palm, walks towards the corner of the room and drops it in the bin.
"The only person I have feelings for is you. I'm not interested in other woman, not when I have you," he establishes.
Sansa's features soften, letting out a tired sigh.
"I'm sorry. I just didn't realise how hard it would be knowing other women like you. And they are nearer to your age," she looks down in sadness.
Jon opens his arms out, gesturing to her to come into his arms. "Come here."
Jon reaches out and grabs her hand, pulling her close. He wraps his arms around her waist, while she snuggles closely into his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of Jon. She plays with the buttons on his white shirt.
"I know it's hard. But I love you, not anyone else. I don't care about Melisandre or any other woman when I have you," he promises.
He leans down and places a tender kiss on her lips. "No woman compares to you, Sansa," he says softly.
Sansa's pulse increases. The jealousy inside her calming down from his words. She nods against his chest, not wanting to leave the safe encompass.
"What are you doing after school?" Jon asked suddenly, she looks up at him with confusion clear on her face.
"Nothing, I'm just going to go home and study. Why?" she asks.
"Let me pick you up, after everyone has gone. We could go and get your favourite desert. I heard you like lemon cakes," he offers.
Sansa nods, picking her head up from Jon's chest. She grins widely, excitement clear on her face.
"Yes, we can go…but how did you know I like lemon cakes?" she curiously asks.
"I heard Jeyne and you talking about it a few weeks ago," he rolls his eyes. "Be careful, Sansa otherwise I'll have to move you two away from each other if you keep talking too much," he teases playfully.
"But if you move me away from the front of the class, how will you stare at me all lesson?" she asks cheekily, giving him a playful wink.
"Goodbye, Sansa," he dismisses her with a short laugh.
She blows him a kiss as she leaves his classroom.