Chapter 6 - Rome - Day 5

"Mornin'," Sansa greeted Jon with a soft smile as he stirred awake.

"Mornin'. How'd you sleep?" he asked. He rather enjoyed the fact that both of them were still in bed; the past few mornings, one of them was already out of bed by the time the other woke up. It felt right, opening his eyes to find her there.

"Great. The drunk buzz wore off and I slept like a rock," she laughed. "You still up for our little hike? We can just chill here if it's too early for you."

"Nah, I definitely wanna do it, despite the soreness from climbing all the steps of the Duomo. Think we can sneak over there without any of our fellow travelers spotting us and inviting themselves along?"

"We'll go into stealth mode," Sansa suggested as she slid out of bed.

Jon watched with a lazy smile as she glided about the room, collecting clothing from her suitcase and heading to the bathroom to change. The closing of the door jarred him out of his reverie. Sansa Stark. Stark. You're basically a brother to her own siblings. You crushing on her would just complicate everything, he reminded himself. As he got ready, he had to keep distracting himself from the memories of her body pressed to his while dancing the night before.

"I'm gonna miss this place," Sansa sighed. They were walking beneath the villa's leafy pergolas, along a pathway that would lead them to the Monte Ceceri trail. "I'm sure I'll be saying the exact same thing about each place we stay at. Hell, I already miss our ritzy Venice hotel."

"I get it. We're surrounded by nature and peace here. It's serene," Jon agreed.

They found the trail amongst the lush woodlands and made their way to Piazzale Leonardo, a clearing amongst the trees where Di Vinci tested his flying machine. It was an ethereal morning and the sunlight gleamed off the Duomo far below in Florence, the red roofs that dotted the city were bathed in the warm glow. After exploring around, they began the trek back to the villa. Jon noticed how the morning light filtered through the tall trees, the rays shining delicately on Sansa and their surroundings.

"Do you like going on hikes back home?" Sansa ventured. Jon suddenly remembered to stop gazing at her.

"Yeah. I have a few favorite spots I frequent. What about you? I think I remember Arya or Robb mentioning you go on hikes often."

"Love it. I try to go pretty early on weekend mornings, before it gets too crowded. I usually try to get Jeyne to go with me, but she hates getting up early on days off. I was thinking maybe you'd wanna come with me sometime?" she asked.

"I'd love to," Jon smiled at her. He then realized he hadn't really thought of how their friendship would go after coming back from this trip. A part of him thought they'd just end up going their separate ways and continuing the distant association. He hated that thought. But the fact that she was making plans with him – albeit vague plans for an undefined time – gave him hope that their growing closeness wasn't going to end on a plane headed to LAX.

After arriving back to the grounds of the villa, they quickly grabbed a few breakfast items, took it back to their room, and took turns showering and getting ready. By 11, they joined the rest of their group and were being loaded into the awaiting vehicles, ready to whisk them off to the train station.

As the train sped past the gorgeous Tuscan views, Sansa drifted into a nap, her head lolling until it came to rest softly on Jon's shoulder. It was impossible to ignore the blossoming feeling deep within his chest. Resting his cheek lightly against the top of her head, he thought of the previous day. He smiled at his utter panic to having woken up spooning Sansa, their bodies curved together perfectly. He had jumped out of bed so quickly and ran to get them breakfast just in case his abrupt movement woke her up. Their bodies being so close together felt so right, but in his mind, it felt inappropriate. In the moment, he reminded himself that Arya told him to watch over her sister and that the Stark family trusted him. He didn't want to betray that trust. But that feeling – the glorious feeling of that wonderful woman pressed against him – was heaven. You're acting as if you're some young virgin who has never had contact with a girl, he thought with a laugh. At least she seemed to love the breakfast I brought back. With the kiss she planted on his cheek in gratitude, Jon told himself she was still in her girlfriend mode – even though there was no one around and no need to put on the act.

"Ugh, too damn cute," Margaery whispered toward him as she walked by down the aisle. Her smile was sickeningly sweet.

She's been perfectly nice to you on this trip, Snow. No need to be mean, he reminded himself. He still thought Margaery had sneaky ulterior motives of some sort, but she really hadn't given reason to fully dislike her.

After a quick glance to make sure the aisle was clear, Jon picked up his phone and flipped through the pictures he had been taking. He stopped on the picture of Sansa at Boboli Gardens. She was the definition of perfect, looking out into the distance, the sun showering her with warm rays. He felt that warmth within him while he admired the shot. He had felt that warmth every time she called him "boyfriend." He had felt it as they had remained arm-in-arm even while they were alone. Flicking past more photos, he came upon the one of them cuddled up on top of the dome, his lips permanently planted on her temple, her wide grin. We look so believable. Real, he thought. Coming across the pictures of them the previous night, with the locals and fellow travelers they met in the piazza, Jon could only think of the feeling of his hands on her waist, their close proximity, and her breath on his neck as they danced the night away, still unnecessarily pretending they were together. Quickly, he put his phone down, deciding nothing good could come from reliving the memories that made him smile as he had been the last few minutes.

After an hour and a half ride, the train slowed to a stop in Rome. Jon gently woke Sansa with a whisper and a delicate squeeze on her hand.

As she took in her surroundings, she blushed when she realized she was using his shoulder as a pillow. "Sorry," she smiled in apology.

"Not a problem. Glad to be of service," Jon grinned back.

Once again, black Mercedes vans sat ready to transport them to their next hotel. The Rome streets were bustling and the roads, from a large traffic circle to narrow lanes, had plenty of ballsy drivers. Shortly, they arrived in front of the Hotel Hassler, located at the top of the famous Spanish Steps. Upon exiting the vehicles, Margaery excitedly informed the group that this is where the big "celebs" stay in Rome.

Stepping into the lobby, they were greeted with a luxe scene of marble flooring and walls and the deep, rich wood of the reception area. A replica statue of the she-wolf nursing Romulus and Remus stood guard. A magnificently large floral arrangement sat on a table centered in the room. As Jon looked around while Sansa checked in, he noticed the clientele that hung about was on the older side, dressed richly without looking garish. He looked down at his own very casual attire and decided he didn't quite fit in here either. But that seemed like a common trend as their trip continued.

"All set," Sansa said, coming along side him. "Shall we settle into our room before doing a little exploring of the area? We have a group dinner at the Michelin star restaurant here in the hotel tonight."

"Sounds good, babe," Jon answered, loving the smile she gave him in return. Leaving her friends that remained in the lobby, they headed toward the elevator. Upon entering their room, they found it richly decorated as well, elegant and classic. Sansa sighed at the handsomely-designed walk in closet. Opening the curtains, a small balcony sat with a little table and chairs. The picturesque Spanish Steps, covered in tourists taking pictures, led out to a wide city view of old buildings and large domes scattered amongst them. Jon could feel the air of ancient history with each breath he took.

It wasn't long before their luggage was brought up. "The Trevi Fountain is only about a 10 minute walk from here," Sansa mentioned from the walk-in closet as she unpacked and hung her fancy dress for that night.

"And maybe we could find our next gelato on the way there?" Jon suggested.

"Yes!"

Stepping out, they went straight for the Spanish Steps. "So, when were these built?" Jon asked, knowing Sansa would have the answer.

Sure enough, she checked her notes app. "In the 1720s. And, of course, made famous by the beautiful Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday, sitting just about there and eating gelato," she informed, pointing to a spot as they walked down the many steps. "And just down there in the Piazza di Spagna," she added, turning his attention to the building to the left at the bottom of the steps, "is the Keats-Shelley House. John Keats lived his last few months and died there. It's now a museum. I thought you might be interested in it. Maybe get a little hit of inspiration for your new book from the Romantics?"

Jon felt that blossoming feeling deep within bloom even more just based off the fact that she had thought of him while researching what they should sightsee. Silly boy, he thought of himself. "That sounds great," he said with appreciation.

Through the small entryway, they toured the two-room apartment rather quickly. An abundance of memorabilia, personal possessions, and artifacts were crammed into the home and Jon marveled at the fantastic library with wall-to-wall bookcases.

Leaving the crowded square, with its many luxury stores and a fountain that featured a partially submerged boat, they headed off toward the Trevi fountain. Walking between blocks of buildings that hemmed in the narrow road, beautifully carved doorways marked their progress along with tiny shops and quaint restaurants that smelled amazing. Along the way, they spotted a small view of the ancient aqueduct that fed into the Trevi, dating back to the year 19. As Jon marveled at the age of what he was looking at, Sansa found a well-reviewed gelateria on her phone, deemed it as "the one" for the day, and guided them toward it. Walking away with his stracciatella gelato, Jon decided it was one of the best yet.

Just down the street, getting more and more crowded with tourists as they neared it, laid the magnificent Trevi Fountain. Once they finished their gelatos, Sansa grasped his hand and expertly weaved themselves through the crowds gathered on the steps leading down to the fountain. She looked adorably triumphant when she got them a tiny spot at the base of the pool.

"Shall we take a picture for our parents? We're gonna have to really squeeze in tight here," she said, turning her back to the fountain and doing her best to extend her arm and angle her phone.

No problem here, Jon thought as they pressed against each other with other tourists vying for a prime spot. Sansa snapped a few shots of them with the Trevi as the backdrop. After selecting the best one and sending it off to both his mom and her parents, they turned their attention back to the scene.

"Fun fact, it's called Trevi because it was at the junction of three roads. So, tre vie," she smiled smartly at him. "That's the Titan god Oceanus. He was the great river that encircled the world," she said, pointing to the looming figure in the center. After a few more tidbits about the other figures that graced the beautiful work of art, she pulled out two coins. "We, of course, need to make our wishes."

"Ah, I need a moment to think of mine," Jon said, taking one of the coins she held out to him in her palm.

"Not me. I've known exactly what I'd wish for a long time," she grinned and once again turned her back toward the water. "Supposedly you have to do it this way – using your right hand to throw it over your left shoulder." Jon couldn't help but delight in the way she closed her eyes tight, her nose scrunching up adorably, as she concentrated hard on her wish and tossed in her coin. Only then did she open her eyes. "I held my breath," she laughed. "Dad always said we should hold our breath when going through a tunnel while wishing so it'll come true. This isn't a tunnel, but hey, why not add that in?"

"I remember that," Jon said, smiling at the memory from his youth with the Starks. "Okay. I'm ready." He turned and positioned himself to throw it over his shoulder. Taking the wish as seriously as Sansa did, he closed his eyes and held his breath. At first his wish was just one word. Sansa, he thought just as he was about to throw the coin. Happiness with Sansa. With that, he tossed his coin. He knew it was vague. But it's what he wanted. It could be in the form of a continuing friendship with her, closer than they ever had been. Happiness with Sansa could also be in the form of a budding romance. Which, if Jon had to be honest with himself, is the one he hoped for the most.

"What did you wish for? Was it about your new book?" Sansa asked excitedly as they weaved back out of the crowd.

"I'd think you would know the rules to making wishes. You can't tell anyone what you wished or else it won't come true," Jon laughed.

"Oh fine," Sansa huffed.

"Would you tell me yours?"

"No!" She playfully shoved his shoulder before opening the map on her phone to guide them toward the Pantheon. Less than ten minutes later, going down tiny shadowed streets and passing a beautiful World War I memorial with lists of names guarded by an angel, they reached their destination.

The open space of the Piazza della Rotunda was packed with travelers. Large tours passed here and there, their guides holding up distinctive flags for their members to follow. Groups of families and friends pressed together to take selfies in front of the Fontana del Pantheon, while others took in the sheer grandness of the Pantheon itself.

"Wow," Jon uttered, his head craning up to take in the details of the façade, reminiscent of ancient Greek temples.

"It's the best-preserved Roman monument, dating back to around the year 125. Originally dedicated as a temple to the Roman gods, it eventually turned into a Catholic church in the 600s."

"It's crazy what they were capable of way back then and that it's lasted this long," he noted, gazing at the weathered portico with its granite columns and the rotunda's concrete dome beyond it.

Through the porch and the rows of columns, entering by way of the massive bronze doors, they came into the vast circular room of the rotunda. Geometric shapes of circles and squares were inlaid in the marble flooring, as well as the walls and the coffers of the dome above them. Jon's eyes were drawn to the oculus in the center of the dome, light pouring in, the spotlight it created just starting to climb up near one of the niches that lined the wall. They admired the paintings that decorated the walls, the statues that stood within the niches, and the tombs along the sides. When they reached the sun's spotlight through the oculus, Jon caught Sansa turning her attention up at the open circle. The way the light fell upon her face as she gazed up, something clenched wonderfully within him. It was a sight he never wanted to forget. So, throwing caution to the wind in regard to him looking like a creeper, he took a quick picture of the ethereal scene before him. When Sansa noticed, a subtle flush colored her sunlit cheeks and she smiled before turning to continue on.

"Do you mind me posting that picture I took of you in there? It's great and I'm pretty sure the world needs to see it," Jon smiled as they walked back out to the piazza when they were finished.

"I don't mind at all," Sansa answered. "I might steal it for myself as well."

As he added the picture to his Instagram stories, he thought of how confusing this all must be to his friends back home. But he wasn't going to worry about it anymore. He had no idea how he was going to deal with the situation when the vacation was over; he'd have to figure out a way to explain everything to everyone who has gotten curious over his sudden proficient use of social media to show off the gorgeous Sansa Stark. Jon didn't care. He really did feel the need to share her exquisite beauty with the light of the old gods shining upon her.

"Yup. Stealing that," Sansa added when she looked at the picture in his story. "We should probably head back to the hotel to get ready for another fancy dinner," she said with a slight wince.

"I'm sure it'll be sufficiently pleasant," Jon reassured her with a smile as he held his arm out for her to take.

Once back in their room, as he came out from his shower, Jon found Sansa, unsurprisingly dressed in the hotel robe, contemplating over outfits in the walk-in closet. "I thought I was sure about what I would be wearing tonight. But now," she trailed off, her eyes darting back and forth between the dress she had set out earlier and another one she hung next to it.

"The white one," Jon strongly suggested. She'd look amazing in either one, he knew. But there was something about the white dress. It was goddess-like. And that seemed pretty fitting for how he felt when the light rained down on her. Holy hell, man, calm down. You're being dramatic, he thought. "Wanna pick out my clothes again?"

"Okay! You look freaking hot in all your suits, so it's a pretty damn easy job," she laughed and it was now his turn to feel a warmth surely coloring his face.

When they finished getting ready, they once again stood in front of a full-length mirror together. Venus, he thought, remembering Margaery comparing Sansa to the goddess. He had to stop himself from staring at her reflection. Sansa gave an enthusiastic approval and they set off for dinner.

Waiting for the elevator, Jon built up his nerve and slightly leaned toward her. "You look beautiful, by the way," he whispered. As she answered him with a lovely smile, voices could be heard coming toward them. Fucking Hardyng, Jon thought when he recognized the voice coming closer. He felt Sansa step closer to him, her side pressing to his. Instinctively, his hand went low on her back and rested there. Jon found himself doing that quite a bit lately and the feel of it just felt right.

When Harry and Saffron reached them, the elevator opened. Loading themselves in, Harry graced them with a snide grin. It made Jon's eyes narrow. Thankfully, the ride to the sixth floor was very short, and in a moment, they arrived at the restaurant entrance. Led to the group's long table, the small restaurant seemed to be devoid of any other guests, only their party was there. Distracting him from those that had already gathered around the table were the wall-to-wall windows that gave a spectacular panoramic view of sunset-bathed Rome. It wasn't until he heard the smallest gasp from Sansa and an urgent squeeze from her hand that he ripped his eyes away from the beautiful cityscape. And there, amongst their companions, was Daenerys.

She was talking excitedly to a few of the others. Harry brushed past him, a cold and knowing laugh playing on his lips. Viserys shot him an icy glare over his glass of wine. And when Daenerys noticed him, it was as if a beast had found its unsuspecting prey. She excused herself from the conversation she was having with Talisa and strode over to Jon and Sansa with a condescending, fake smile. "Hello, Jon."

Jon seethed beneath the surface.

"And, Sansa! It was such a surprise when I heard the astonishing news that you two have gotten together! Who could have guessed this would be a thing?" Daenerys giggled and gestured between the two in front of her. Jon could tell that Sansa did her best to put on a kind smile. But before Sansa could even give a greeting, Daenerys continued on. "Anyway, I was just in Paris, visiting some old friends from college, when Viserys told me this was your next destination. I figured I'd make a quick stop here in Rome before going home, visit my dear brother and some old friends. It's so good to see everyone again. Especially you." She gave Jon's arm, the one not currently entwined with Sansa's, a squeeze and batted her eyelashes at him. "Well, I'm going to grab another glass of wine. But I'm sure we'll be doing some catching up before my flight home." With one more coy smirk, she turned and walked to her brother.

"What the fuck?" Jon groaned under his breath. Sansa stifled a laugh next to him. When he turned to her with an exasperated look, she gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Let's find the farthest seat at the table from her," Sansa suggested.

As they sat and the first dishes of the extensive tasting menu were set before them, Jon felt suspicion rise within him. He could feel Daenerys' eyes on him, but he refused to turn his attention to her. He glanced at Viserys, knowing full well it had to have been a scheme of his to bring his sister there. On top of him always despising Jon, it was the way his eyes raked over Sansa and his newfound disregard for his own girlfriend Doreah. An attempt to cause a wedge between me and Sansa? Jon wondered. There was Hardyng and his satisfied sneer; he had obviously known this was happening. Joffrey looked like an entertained child. Jon's glare fell on Margaery. He had found himself warming up, however slightly, to her in the past couple of days. But maybe he was wrong; maybe she was still conniving underneath the overly kind veneer. She had planned this whole trip – maybe she planned to fuck with Sansa as well, inviting her new boyfriend's ex along to surprise them. Whatever this conspiracy was, it made him feel uneasy.

Below the table, Sansa gave his thigh a reassuring grip. Turning to her, his animosity for the other people at the table ebbed away.

"You okay?" she mouthed in a bare whisper amongst the din of their party.

"I am," Jon smiled. Without another thought, he lightly grasped her chin in his hand and kissed her lips.

Sure, he could blame it on wanting to keep up appearances, especially in front of their new guest. But he knew that wasn't why he kissed her. It was because he wanted to. Plain and simple want. Sansa put this deep calm and contentment within him, something he never felt before and didn't quite know how to describe. Whatever it was, he loved it.

The kiss was short and sweet. As he pulled away, he caught the pleased smile curling on her lips. From then on, he didn't give a shit about the people at the other side of the long table.

As the dinner came to an end, Jon and Sansa were the first to leave, offering vague good nights to the table at large before heading to the elevator hand-in-hand.

"Want to call it a night? Or shall we go for a little walk?" Sansa asked.

"I could go for a walk," Jon answered, not quite ready for the night to end now that they were away from the rest of them. "Did you wanna go back to the room to switch out of those heels?"

Sansa looked down at her high heels and waved her hand dismissively. "I'd rather get out of this hotel before running into any more unwanted surprises," she laughed. "There's a place just around the corner that supposedly has the best tiramisu ever. I'm super stuffed, but definitely need to try it. Want to split one?"

"The best tiramisu? Hell yeah."

After locating the little shop and waiting in a long line, they decided on getting classic tiramisu as well as trying the pistachio version. Walking back into the piazza, they snagged a seat along the boat-shaped fountain in front of the Spanish Steps.

"So," Sansa started, using her fork to dig out a bite of the tiramisu Jon was holding. "How are you feeling about all this?" she asked, gesturing up in the direction of their hotel at the top of the steps.

"Wary," Jon laughed, stealing a bite out of the carton Sansa held. "Suspicious. Irritated."

"Well, that's all understandable. And I'm having the same feelings. I'm sorry, Jon. I don't know how this happened, who's responsible – but they're my old friends, and I'm so sorry."

"This isn't your fault, Sans," Jon eased.

"It feels like it kinda is. I'm the one that put you into this situation."

"And I'm getting an absolutely wonderful trip with the greatest fake-girlfriend," Jon teased, playfully knocking her shoulder with his.

"I'm gonna get to the bottom of this," she said determinedly.

"She said this was only a quick stop before going home. Here's hoping that was the last we see of her."

"Doubtful. She made the trek over here for a reason. And I don't think that reason is to visit her 'dear brother'."

"True. They've always had a weird sibling relationship of absolutely hating each other while still having family loyalty to one another. But it was never any fondness between them."

"She's definitely here for you."

"I don't know why. When I ended things with her, she didn't hold back on throwing her true feelings and opinions about me in my face. I believe the last thing she said before storming out was something along the lines of her being too good for me."

"Can I ask what happened between you two? If you don't mind, of course. I had only heard that you guys broke up through the grapevine that is my family," Sansa smiled.

"There were quite a few reasons, ones that I had tried ignoring. Her controlling and selfish ways were becoming glaringly obvious. On top of that, while she was supportive enough when I started writing the book, that support didn't last long. She refused to see it as anything but a silly hobby that took up too much of my time. And when I mentioned the idea of maybe quitting my job so I can focus solely on writing, she didn't quite approve of that. She wanted me to stay in a high-paying job, climb up the ladder in the financial field. She didn't want me risking our dream life for my hobby."

"But it's not just a hobby. You're so talented. And it became a big success. I can't believe she could just diminish your accomplishments like that."

"Thanks, Sans," Jon said, giving her a crooked, shy smile. "She called my idea stupid, implied it would never work out how I want it to, said that it would be embarrassing for her to be with someone who put their hobby before their real job. Her lack of support kinda made me see how unhappy I was. How unhappy we both were, really. We wanted very different things and any love we had for each other had faded away a long time before that. It sounds cliché but it really was like a huge weight was lifted off when I finally did it."

Sansa nodded in understanding but soon gave a slight frown. "But you're still working in finance."

Jon laughed. "Yeah. I had still been questioning if I should bite the bullet or not."

"Is that because of what Daenerys said to you?"

"Maybe she got in my head a little," he admitted. "Maybe I'm not actually good enough to make it a career. Maybe I would need this job to fall back on."

"She's wrong, Jon. The success of your first book proves that. You are so damn good at writing. And if you want to solely focus on writing wonderful books, that is exactly what you should do. I read your book four times already and I know I'll be reading it again. I can't even explain how excited I was when you mentioned you were planning on writing another. I know I'm not the only one who is looking forward to your next book," she said with a wide smile. Jon couldn't help but mirror it with his own.

After finishing their desserts, they slowly made their way up the Spanish Steps. "So who do you think is the mastermind behind bringing Daenerys here?" Jon asked.

"I don't know. I was trying to figure that out at dinner. Obviously, her brother is involved."

"Yeah, the way he's been eyeing you, I can definitely imagine him trying to throw a wrench in our awesome relationship," he laughed.

"Ew. No."

The cringe on her face made him laugh more. "Then there's either of your lovely exes. I can see Joffrey wanting to have some chaotic fun. Same with Harry, but there's also the added recent bitterness of realizing what he had lost with his awful decisions."

"He's just awful in general." She sighed before she continued. "Then there's Margaery. I don't want to think the worst of her, but I also don't want to end up being fooled. Her kindness can be sneaky, I know that from experience. I've never really been able to trust when it's genuine or not. And, with her being in charge of this whole trip, it wouldn't be overly surprising that she at least new about this."

"I considered her too."

"I just can't figure out why she would do that."

"Jealousy?"

"Of me? There's no reason for her to be jealous of me. She's super rich and doesn't have to work hard for it, she lives a luxurious life with little worries. She's getting married to her dream man."

"But, remember, she basically had to steal that dream man from you. And, as they say, money doesn't buy happiness. You seem genuinely happy; I'm not sure she could say the same about herself. Besides, she still allowed your recent ex-boyfriend, who cheated on you, to come on this trip with the girl he cheated on you with, even though he was only part of your friend group because he was with you."

"Ugh. True," she conceded as Jon opened the hotel lobby door for her. "They're all just a big group of vipers, aren't they?"

"Yes. But we're gonna enjoy the hell out of the rest of this trip, no matter what they do. Right?"

"Right," Sansa said, beaming at him as they waited for the elevator.

Back in the safety of their room, they went about their usual nighttime routines. Jon sat at the table on their tiny balcony, writing down notes and ideas while breathing in Rome. As he wrote about the heavenly lighting in the Pantheon, a pajama clad Sansa came up behind him. She rested her hand on his shoulder as she looked out at the dark city view. Jon absentmindedly placed his hand on top of hers as he continued on scribbling his notes. A moment or two later, she moved to go back into the room, her hand gliding across his back to his other shoulder before she stepped away. Jon's hand paused in his writing and a small, wistful smile appeared on his face.