Chapter 5 - Florence - Day 4

Sansa's eyes fluttered open in the morning light that filtered through the curtains. It felt weird to find herself alone in the bed after a few nights of sharing with Jon. She found she preferred him to be in it with her - not that she really wanted to admit that. Nope, this was a fake relationship and she, of course, knew that. But it tends to feel real. And right, she thought. Like when he kissed me on my temple. Sansa had racked her mind as she settled into bed the previous night, trying to think of a time a boyfriend had ever kissed her so tenderly in that spot. She realized the answer was never. The sensation she felt in that moment was brand new. Heady. Breathtaking. Sigh-inducing. Get out of your head, Sansa warned herself as her thoughts fell deeper into it. She then wondered where Jon had gone off to - the bathroom door was wide open and through the windows, she could see the chairs in their little garden were empty. Her memory hazily remembered a vague warmth next to her when she was half awake much earlier that morning. That warmth ran the length of her body, from her back and down her legs. She remembered feeling incredibly comfortable. Now the bed was cold. And she felt all twisted up in her pajamas. She owned tons of cute matching pajama sets, but she never actually wore them to sleep. But, with Jon next to her, she obviously couldn't sleep naked as she usually would. Right as her mind started to stray to the idea of being naked in bed with Jon Snow, Sansa distracted herself and decided on jumping into the shower.

As the water ran over her, she wondered if it was Jon snuggling up to her that provided that bodily warmth in bed. Almost like the previous morning in Venice, Sansa having woken up to realize her arm was haphazardly resting across Jon's chest, rising and falling with his breathing. Her leg was damn well near to being draped over his. Upon sluggishly opening her eyes and seeing the position, she sleepily smiled and began to drift back to sleep. That is, until her mind started screaming at her for being inappropriate. Her eyes shot open and she whipped her arm away before rushing to the bathroom in case her movements stirred him awake. You need to stop before you make him feel uncomfortable. Or more uncomfortable than he already feels.

Her mind wandered to the previous day's poolside outing. She couldn't help but admire Jon's impeccable physique like she never had before. Thank the gods I was wearing dark sunglasses, she thought. And then there was her craving for Jon to desire her, how she slowly undressed in front of him before swimming. Was I making a show out of it? she thought with a knowing, coy smile.

Once shutting off the shower, Sansa could hear the clink of dishes and glasses right outside in their garden. Slipping into the hotel robe (comfortable, but not quite the heavenly cloud that was the Gritti Palace's) and its matching slippers, she peeked out the door to investigate. Jon, with the help of a hotel attendant, had brought up a few plates of breakfast, a carafe of orange juice, and coffee. He was just thanking the young man before turning around and finding Sansa.

"Hungry?" Jon asked.

"Very," Sansa smiled.

"I wasn't sure what I should grab for you. I'm hoping you're okay with their Americano breakfast option," he said gesturing to the table where two plates sat. Each filled with a pretty omelet (Can omelets be considered pretty? Well, these definitely are.), prosciutto, rustic hashbrowns, and grilled bread with tiny jars of jam that were made in-house with fruit they grow on the grounds, according to Jon.

"It's perfect, Jon. Thank you," she said, giving a grateful squeeze to his bicep before she took the seat he pulled out for her.

"And they had a plethora of fruit tarts, baked daily here in the kitchens. All of the ingredients are locally sourced, if not found here in their gardens." There was a plate with a few narrow slices of different tarts, a different fruit adorning the tops of each of them.

How is this man single? Sansa thought as she glanced toward Jon pouring fresh-squeezed orange juice into glasses for them.

Their al fresco breakfast was perfect. The food was absolutely scrumptious, of course. And to be able to experience it with the incredible view in their private garden was beyond excellent. What was even better was that they weren't interrupted from their peaceful reverie by any passing friends.

The air was filled with lemons coming from the potted trees just on the level above them. The sun gave a warmth that tamed the brisk morning air. "How am I expected to leave this place?" Sansa pondered as she took the slice of fruit tart that had a stewed pear and sage topping, nearly groaning from the absolute tastiness of it.

"I know," Jon smiled, leaning back from his empty plate with a cup of coffee in his hand. "While I was grabbing breakfast, one of the servers told me about Monte Ceceri," he said, pointing to the wooded hillside on the left side of their view. "It's a nature reserve you can hike through, and at the top of the hill is where Leonardo da Vinci tested his flying machine in the 1500s. He described it as walking in da Vinci's footsteps."

"Oooh, I like hikes. Should we do that tomorrow morning before we check out?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Well now that I am overly stuffed, I guess I should get ready for the day," Sansa pleasantly sighed, snagging a leftover bite from what was a slice of fig tart. "Thank you, again, for setting up breakfast, Jon." Once she got to her feet, she leaned down and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, walking back into their room before he could see her blush. What the hell are you doing that for? There's no one around for you to be keeping up the relationship pretext, she thought, not admitting to herself that something was growing within her.

Once both dressed and ready, they headed toward the hotel's entrance. Leaving their little garden dreamland, Jon's hand found Sansa's. She attributed it to any possible run-ins with their group. And, of course, they ended up passing a few who were going in to grab breakfast, including Harry with his sneering, belittling look he tended to give Jon when he was near. Once at the front of the hotel, they joined in the wait for the courtesy shuttle with a few other Villa San Michele guests. With the shuttle running every twenty minutes, it wasn't a long wait at all before they were hopping into the van and winding down the hillside roads toward what was once the epicenter of the Italian Renaissance. Soon, their ride was going through a grand archway and coming to a stop in front of an open square bordered by blocks of buildings and holding a quaint carousel, the Piazza della Repubblica.

"This was the city center back in the day, with markets and the Roman forum here. But they updated it in the 18th century and now it no longer looks medieval," Sansa informed Jon as they stood in the middle of the open area and took in their surroundings. She checked the notes she had listed in her phone. "Except they left the Column of Abundance, from the 1400s," she said, pointing to the column, its stepped base crowded with resting tourists. A few street performers and musicians were scattered about the large rectangular area with spectators crowded around each of them.

"Well that's a classy touch," Jon remarked, noticing a nearby opera singer serenading a group of travelers. "So, when do we have to meet up with everyone?"

Sansa smiled to herself, noticing how he tried to mask his disdain - which, admittedly, was starting to diminisha tiny bit with each passing day. "We're to meet over by the Duomo in a couple hours for a tour. That should give us plenty of time to head over to Boboli Gardens. If that's okay with you? I'm sure gardens don't exactly sound super exciting," Sansa said, offering a sheepish smile.

"It sounds wonderful, Sans," Jon answered and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers. She found his answering smile quite charming, making her own grow wider.

Trying to ignore that twitterpated feeling spreading through her, Sansa busied herself with pulling up the directions on her phone. "It's only a 10 minute walk down this street here and over the Ponte Vecchio."

"Shall we?" he asked, sticking his arm out dramatically for her to take. Sansa quickly diverted her eyes from that smile, looped her arm through his, and they started off.

Shops lined the way, the buildings shading them from the continuously rising sun. Passing by some tiny cafes, the aroma of coffee and fresh cornetti was in the air. They passed by a large structure, open on all sides and supported by columns and arches. The corner niches were adorned with statues. Vendor stalls filled the space within. Placed at the front of it was a bronzed statue of a boar, a line led to it with people wanting to rub its (now shiny gold) nose, Sansa assumed it was for good luck. "That's a cool place," she commented as they walked by.

"It's a loggia from the mid 16th century," Jon stated, having already looked it up on his phone. "It had been a market area to sell silk and luxury goods." He wore an amusedly proud look with finally being able to inform Sansa for a change. "And, during the Renaissance, at the center was a spot used to publicly punish people who couldn't pay their debts by repeatedly paddling their ass."

"Oh my," Sansa said in a mock scandalous tone. Gods he's adorable, she thought. And hot.

They continued on, arm-in-arm, onto the Ponte Vecchio - which didn't even seem like a bridge considering the buildings and storefronts continued to line the path. They seemed to be in a jewelry district now, the display cases in the front of each shop featured everything from dainty necklaces to gaudy brooches. Toward the middle of the bridge, the shops gave way to an opening with the view of the Arno River that they now stood above. More jewelry stores lined the rest of the old bridge, blocking out the glimpse of the river. Once on the south side of the Arno, they joined in the bustling morning traffic of pedestrians and cars. Tall, beige buildings with small shops and restaurants on the ground floor hemmed in the narrow street. Suddenly, their path opened up to the vast pavement area of Piazza dei Pitti.

"And this is Palazzo Pitti," Sansa said, pointing to the large, austere stonework building. "It was once the residence of the Medici family." Lacking any sort of fanciful touches in the architecture, the exterior was imposing, severe, not the sort of palace that would typically come to mind for the patrons of Renaissance art. But it looked powerful and, to Sansa, that seemed fitting for such an authoritative family.

"Well, I've certainly heard of them," Jon stated.

"They bought it in the 1500s, basically doubled the size of the original building, stored their private art collection in it, and put in a massive garden. A garden I'm sure I'm bound to fall deeply in love with."

Jon laughed his charming laugh, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling. Stop focusing on his smile, she told herself firmly. Instead, she spun her attention to the entrance. Deciding to skip over seeing the art held within Palazzo Pitti, they instead opted to take their time exploring the gardens in order to still be able to grab lunch before meeting the rest of their group. Walking through the entrance, they found themselves in a large courtyard surrounded by the walls of the palace.

"The Medicis held festivities here, supposedly even flooding this area for a naval battle performance," Sansa informed him, again referring to the notes on her phone.

"You're amazing," Jon chuckled while taking a peek at her phone screen with the meticulously organized tidbits.

"What?" she questioned, jokingly defensive.

"You just are." He pointed to an archway that framed a fountain within. "What's that over there?"

Sansa consulted the map. "I believe that's the Grotta di Mose." It was flanked by two statues of Hercules. Through the archway was a basin with water spouting from the middle, a couple of little marble cherubs swam in the water. The main focal point was the reddish hued statue of Moses with four other statues lining the circular room in their niches. The decorated domed ceiling above had been made to look like the top of a pergola with the painted sky beyond it and an angel in the middle.

"I bet scandalous things happened in this dark grotto," Jon whispered conspiratorially with a roguish smile. Sansa laughed and tried to figure out why she felt a blush bloom on her cheeks.

Heading up the ramp that led out of the courtyard, they came back up into the bright sunshine to be greeted with a spectacular amphitheater where operas and choreographed dances were performed. Green grass laid out before them, surrounded by a horseshoe shape of stone step-like bleachers for the spectators. Marble statues adorned the top. Levels of hedges and trees stood above them. It was all so simple but so very grand. In the middle of the amphitheater sat an Egyptian obelisk and a Roman basin that dated back to the year 200.

"Supposedly the very first opera was in this amphitheater. Ugh, to be able to be here for the performances back then," Sansa sighed.

"I could put on a show for you," Jon laughed.

"A 'Magic Mike' show? I'd watch that," she teased, completely meaning it but knowing he figured it to be a joke. It was Jon's turn to give off a subtle blush under that ruggedly handsome scruffiness.

They continued on the path that ran through the center of the amphitheater and up the hill beyond it. Paths branched out to the sides but they continued on the upward slope. Once the hill evened out, they found the bronze Fountain of Neptune amid a large basin of water. Traversing the steps that continued up the hillside, they took a quick selfie with the fountain, the palace, and the old city of Florence in the background, Jon promptly sending it to his mom. Eventually, going up a spiral staircase, they reached the top. Through a gateway, they entered into a garden made of low, meticulously groomed hedges that formed geometric patterns encasing flower beds. Gorgeously vibrant peonies and roses gave a punch of color to the surroundings.

"Perfection," Sansa breathed, admiring the blooms as they weaved around the hedges and took a pause at the edge of the garden.

The green rolling hills of the Tuscan countryside adorned the views from their perch. Groves of olive trees and vineyards dotted the land. Old villages sat at the top of some of the hills. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jon take a quick picture of her as she looked out at the incredible scenery.

"I'm sorry. It just looked like it would be a really good shot," Jon abashedly said when he caught her shy look.

"I don't mind. And anyways, good boyfriends take good pictures of their girlfriends," she laughed and wound her arm with his. "Shall we check out what's in that little building over there, boyfriend?" His answering grin was pure heaven.

After perusing the porcelain museum housed in the building connected to the flower garden, they found a switchback pathway that wound downhill through a wooded area with tall hedges, little nooks branched off here and there to statues and grassy areas. As they walked along, Sansa and Jon remained close, their arms interlocked and their sides pressed together. We don't know anyone here, and here we are still looking like we're in a relationship, Sansa thought, smiling to herself.

More beautiful statues graced the path as they continued on. Eventually, they came to an oval island surrounded by a moat. Old columns adorned with sculpted goats framed the walkway, lined with potted lemon trees, that connected the island to the main path. On the island sat the Fountain of the Ocean, Perseus on his horse, partially submerged.

From there, they strode back up the hill along the main thoroughfare of the Viottolone, statues and tall cypress trees lining the wide path. While checking out a couple of the marble figures, Sansa noticed a smaller, more secluded path. They used it to continue up the hill, the narrow tree tunnel engulfing the way. The low ceiling of leafy branches was a welcome break from the sun's growing heat. With the coolness and the general lack of tourists, their pace slowed as they both appreciated the peaceful atmosphere. With so many pathways to explore, Sansa wished they could spend more time alone there. There was also no shortage of hiding places and she thought about the secret, scandalous things that must have happened in those spots throughout the garden's Renaissance heyday. She then thought about the scandalous things she and a mystery man - who coincidentally looked like Jon - could get up to in a small nook they just passed.

"Should we be grabbing some lunch soon?" Jon asked, bringing Sansa out of her thoughts.

"Yes!" she said a bit too rushed. "There's a sandwich and wine bar on the way to the Duomo that I read about," she offered, more calmly now.

"Sounds tasty."

They wound their way around the grounds, finding more manicured gardens and grottoes to explore before exiting through the palace. The streets of Florence were more crowded in the midday heat; Jon and Sansa had to dodge fellow tourists and tour groups as they headed back the way they came. Before they got to their starting point, she steered them to the right, down a narrow street where a long line had formed in front of a shallow hole-in-the-wall shop front, a sign above it declaring 1875 as their beginning.

"Well, this must be good," Jon chuckled as they joined the end of the line. Thankfully, it moved quickly, and it wasn't long before they had reached the counter to order their paninis and glasses of wine. They joined the other patrons standing and sitting along the sides of the street and enjoying their lunch. One bite into their paninis, prosciutto for Sansa and porchetta for Jon, and they could taste the freshness of the individual ingredients, chasing each swallowed mouthful with a sip of Chianti.

"That really hit the spot," Sansa sighed contentedly as they placed their empty wine glasses on the wooden rack that hung outside the shop, joining other glasses in varying states of emptiness.

Jon hummed a pleased agreement. "Time to join the sharks?" he asked.

"That it is." Heading north, it was only a few minutes before they reached the Piazza del Duomo, the tower greeting them first. The cathedral stood behind it with its massive dome, a symbol of Florence; it was a breathtaking size. The structures matched with their unique color scheme of green, pink, and white marble. Amongst the gathering crowds, Sansa could spot their group in between the cathedral and the baptistery. "Here we go again," Sansa muttered toward Jon, bringing out a smile in him.

"Sansa!" Margaery was all smiles when they walked up. She reached out and gave Sansa a fleeting hug. "How was your guys' morning? As romantic as can be, I expect."

"It was," Sansa smiled sweetly, feeling Jon's dutiful arm curling around her waist in perfect timing. She swore she could hear a disgusted grunt behind her. Joffrey. Or Harry. Hell, it could even be Viserys. Whoever it was, Sansa didn't care.

It wasn't long before their guide was introducing himself. Paolo told them all about the octagonal-shaped baptistery, the Battistero di San Giovanni, one of the oldest buildings in Florence with its construction dating back to the 11th century. The building was of white and green marble, skipping out on the pink in the neighboring structures. They stood in front of the East Doors, nicknamed by Michelangelo as the Gates of Paradise, massive and elaborate with their bronze panels, the reliefs giving a 3D effect and a linear perspective that was remarkable for the time. Eventually, they were led inside, the location of many baptisms, including Dante's. But the eye was immediately drawn to the Byzantine mosaic ceiling, depicting biblical scenes on a vast gold background, the tiny glass pieces almost shimmering in the light.

As they exited the building, Sansa couldn't help but notice Jon's hand was often resting gently at the small of her back. It seemed to fit just right. She smiled inwardly at the subtle show he must have been putting on for the friends behind them.

Paolo led them across the piazza to the Gothic cathedral, Santa Maria del Fiore. Inside, the mosaic floor was striking and resembled patterned carpet. The spectacular dome above them was the largest built at that time and had inspired the domes of the Vatican and the US Capitol. The Last Judgment, beautifully designed by Vasari, filled the dome's ceiling and was said to influence the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Sansa gazed around, the sheer size of the interior dwarfing its visitors. Jon stood by her side, taking it all in as well, his hand once again settling low on her back. As she managed a sneaky glimpse his way, she caught Viserys' eyes on him, narrowed and disgruntled. It gave her a quick shudder.

Turning her attention back to their guide, he led them to the entrance of the stairway that would take them to the top of the dome, bypassing a very long line. The stone stairs changed as they climbed, sometimes winding around and around, sometimes steeper and steeper, and smaller staircases varying in narrowness. Over 400 steps later, they stepped out into the blaring sunlight at the top of the dome. The eventual sore legs were completely worth the view. High above the city, Florence surrounded them, a sea of red tiled rooftops stretched out in all directions, the green rolling hills hemmed the red in.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need a selfie," Sansa grinned at Jon.

"Come on," he laughed, walking to the rail at the edge.

Sansa stood in front of him, her back resting on his chest. Jon draped his arm over her shoulder and held her to him, she held his wrist with her free hand. Sansa aimed her phone and snapped a few pictures. Checking to make sure they were good, she couldn't help but notice how effortless they looked. Their smiles wide and easy. His arm around her, her hand delicate on his wrist. It made her smile just to look at the pictures. Especially the last one - his lips pressing gently to her temple, her eyes crinkling with her growing smile.

"Ugh, sickeningly sweet." A passing mutter from Talisa as she and Shae walked by, her voice fading away but still audible. "No couple is that sickeningly sweet unless they're trying to fabricate a perfect life on social media."

Sansa opened her mouth to say something - whether it was to defend or argue, she didn't know. Margaery sidled up to her. "Just ignore her bitterness. I haven't seen her remotely happy since she was with your brother," she whispered conspiratorially to Sansa. "Not even with her own husband. I heard this is a make-or-break trip for them." The corners of her lips curved into her signature smirk.

Margaery - always the gossip, Sansa thought, watching her flit away to Joffrey's side.

Once they had descended from the sky back to the ground, Paolo led them to their next stop. The whole city still had a Renaissance atmosphere, like the entirety of it was a museum, holding archaic masterpieces of architecture and works of art. It was hot in the summer sun amongst the crowds, much different to their cooler, wooded retreat hotel. Thankfully, Florence was easy to navigate, with the sites being just short distances from each other. The Piazza della Signoria was just another five minute walk away. It was the political center of Florence, housing the Palazzo Vecchio, the town hall that was once the home of the Medicis, before Palazzo Pitti. Art seemed to be just about everywhere you looked in this city and the piazza was no different; statues littered the square and inside the Loggia dei Lanzi, an open air sculpture gallery. Namely, naked men. Well this is an overabundance of larger-than-life penis, Sansa noted, looking around them. There was the replica of the famous David, the Fountain of Neptune, Hercules and Cacus, and Perseus holding up Medusa's severed head. The Palazzo Vecchio looked like a foreboding medieval fortress with its squared notches, tall tower, and battlements at the top. The exterior exuded power. Inside, however, was all Renaissance elegance and art by the renowned Vasari. The main hall, the Hall of 500, was huge and made to fit many people. Its walls were adorned with large frescoes depicting military scenes. The ornate ceiling high above them was made of panels framed in gold, paintings centering on one of the most powerful Medicis, Cosimo I.

After seeing the chapels, Medici apartments, and grand halls, they moved onto the Uffizi Gallery. What was once the Medici offices, the Uffizi now held one of the finest collections of Italian art ranging over the centuries. It was filled with works from artists that shaped the Renaissance - Da Vinci, Michaelangelo, Titian, Raphael, Botticelli. Sansa and Jon stood in front of Botticelli's Birth of Venus, admiring the stunning dreaminess of it.

"Marvelous, isn't it?" Margaery exclaimed, suddenly appearing in the small space between them.

"Truly," Sansa answered after her initial twinge of surprise at her abrupt presence.

"Jon, can't you just imagine Sansa as Venus? The goddess of love and beauty. All flowing red hair and graceful, lithe nakedness." Margaery asked in a fanciful tone, her lips curling into that mischievous smile again.

She must have taken him off guard, the way he cleared his throat before answering. "Yeah. Yes, I can definitely imagine that."

"Not that you don't see that from our lovely Sansa on a daily basis," she said, shooting the pair a playful wink before walking away. Sansa and Jon shared bashful smiles before moving on to the next painting.

When they exited the Uffizi Gallery, the sun had set, the last light slowly sinking with it. For their last group excursion of the day, they headed to the Galleria dell'Accademia for an after-hours tour to see Michaelangelo's David. The hall leading to the great statue was thankfully void of crowds, their group being the only ones let in at that time. It was lined with the artist's unfinished statues. Studying them as she slowly moved toward the gallery's masterpiece, Sansa thought Michaelangelo's subjects looked like they were trying to free themselves from the chunks of marble. However, her attention was quickly drawn to the 17 foot tall musculature of David. One of the ultimate symbols of the Renaissance, its size and representation of strength was commanding.

"Psst," Sansa whispered to Jon as they looked up at the marvel. "I need you to pose just like him."

"You're corny," Jon laughed.

"Please?" she pleaded with fluttering lashes. He shook his head with his good-natured smile, looked up at the statue to study the pose, and assumed his position in front of it. As Sansa stepped back and took a picture, she could hear Joffrey scoff behind her. She could see Harry give an unpleasant look their way. Yeah, you guys would never be willing to be this corny with me, so fuck you, she thought. "Thanks, babe," she said, walking up to Jon and putting on a show of throwing her arm around his neck and giving his lips a quick kiss.

"Anything for you," Jon laughed.

As they exited out of the building, Sansa posted the picture to her Instagram story with the caption 'The ideal male form. But which is the original and which is the replica?'

Out on the street, their group gathered around Margaery. "Okay, my lovelies, we're meeting at the front of the Villa tomorrow morning at 11," she stated. "Have a great night!" She wiggled her eyebrows specifically at Sansa.

As they were all saying their good-nights, Sansa leaned toward her. "What was that look for?" she asked curiously as Margaery threw her arms around her for a hug. The gesture still hadn't quite regained its familiarity from their teenage years.

"I mean, have you not seen the way Jon has been eyeing you all day? I think you're in for a rather great night - in bed," Margaery whispered devilishly.

"Oh!" Sansa squeaked. Jon's really playing his role convincingly.

The couples split off for the night by themselves or in smaller groups. As they turned to walk away, Jon's arm wrapped around her shoulders and Sansa absentmindedly slid hers around his waist. Absolutely starved, they decided on a Florentine steakhouse. One of their longer walks of the day, it would take twenty minutes to get to the restaurant on the other side of the Arno but, according to their tour guide, it would be well worth it. Walking along, the dark alleys and streets still evoked the middle ages with the old stonework architecture and great iron doors. History was everywhere.

Their meal was definitely worth waiting for. Sansa giggled when Jon's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy shop as the sliced, kilo-sized Chianina steak was set in between them on a carving board. She promptly took a picture of his expression with the steak and sent it to her dad, knowing he'd much appreciate that kind of meal. Upon finishing dinner, she smiled over the last sips of her wine when he contentedly leaned back, just barely able to utter, "Exceptional."

"Did you save room for our daily gelato?" she asked.

"Of course," Jon chuckled.

As they waited in line at a gelateria they found along their way, they were given the suggestion of Piazza Santo Spirito for some nightlife fun by the locals ahead of them. Upon finding the piazza, Sansa and Jon joined in with the crowds, a buzzing and vibrant chaos of people enjoying the night, drinks in hand. They met some more locals and a few tourists in the bars they stopped in. Even though they would never see these people again, Jon and Sansa still kept up with their fake relationship, never once dropping the act. As they relaxed with cocktails against the large fountain that sat in the middle of the piazza, live music began flowing out of one of the bars. The Italian couple they had befriended coaxed them into dancing along with them and some of the other nighttime revelers. Sansa was quite aware of Jon's hands on her waist, the way his body swayed with hers to the beat. He was surprisingly good at dancing. He claimed it was the alcohol that helped him. Whatever it was, they seemed to melt into each other and a pleasant feeling spread throughout her body, accompanying the light and pleasant alcohol-induced buzz already in her.

Once reaching their room at the end of their night, they settled into their nightly routine of taking turns getting ready for bed, Sansa writing on the postcard she had bought earlier that day, and Jon jotting down notes in his worn notebook. Sansa took a minute to take it in and smiled at how natural it all felt. As they sank into the bed and covered themselves in the bedding, they no longer retreated to the very edge of their respective sides and no longer turned their backs to each other in attempt to give space. Instead, their bodies were not far as they faced one another. In the faint moonlight that drifted in through a window, they smiled at one another.

"Good night," Sansa whispered.

"Night, Sans," Jon whispered back.