Jon was looking at Arya with something like hurt in his eyes. Betrayal was clearly written all over his face. "You could have told me," he said. "You could have told me that it was all for pretend, but...you just lied about it all."
Arya bit her lip, trying not to panic. Gendry, standing right next to her with his hand still clasped around her wrist, was staring at Jon with wide eyes, looking like he couldn't properly comprehend the scene that was unfolding before his very eyes. Arya wasn't even sure if she was taking it in herself. There was no way this was happening, no way that Jon was standing in front of them, telling them that he knew about their fake relationship. There was no way that he was watching them with distrust.
"Jon," she said. "It's not a big deal."
"You lied to us. It is a big deal. I—oh, my God I punched Gendry in the face!"
"It's fine," Gendry said automatically. "Water under the bridge."
"Not for me," he said firmly, his eyes set steadily on Arya.
It was probably the meanest thing he'd ever said to her in her entire life.
"Jon, come on. It's not that serious. So what if I pretended to be dating him? I wasn't going to find a date, and he needed one also—"
"But you didn't tell me."
"...I couldn't tell anyone," Arya said softly.
"Because you didn't think you could trust me to keep a stupidly small secret like this?"
"It's not a stupidly small secret, Jon! It's...It's a big deal, you know, with the whole wedding and everything. Mom and Sansa were putting the pressure on, just to get me to find a stupid date. I couldn't let them down—"
"No, it would be a big deal for Sansa. It would be a big deal for Catelyn. But did you think I would have cared?"
Arya shrugged her shoulders helplessly, looking down to avoid the hurt in Jon's eyes. "You two are the ones who turned it into some...big torrid secret. None of us would have cared. In fact, Sansa and Catelyn probably would have even gone along with it if you told them."
No. No, that wasn't true. That couldn't be true. Arya had spent every waking moment since Gendry texted her that first night thinking of the best way to keep this all under everyone's radar. Because she knew, she knew that if they heard she was just taking Genry as her date for the night, Sansa would have thrown a fit over it. Catelyn would have shaken her head in disappointment. Ned would have sighed in resignation because she didn't want to put herself out there to find another date. If she would have told them, they would be reacting the same way Jon was reacting—making a big deal out of nothing, making it sound like she had done it to purposefully keep secrets from them all.
But that wasn't right, either. Jon wasn't overreacting at all because he was right. If Arya wanted to be honest with herself, more honest than she had been for the past two weeks, then she would have admitted that she never had to fake a relationship with Gendry just to please her sister. If she said she was just bringing Gendry along as a date for the wedding, they probably would have helped her save face if any guests kept asking prying questions. But then Gendry had brought up the idea—no, that wasn't right, either. Gendry had suggested they go to the wedding together, but Arya had mentioned a relationship first. She had been the one to say it would work better if everyone thought they were dating, including her whole family. Gendry may have come up with all the details, but he gave Arya complete control over their ground rules.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But, Jon, you have to promise—you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone what you know."
Jon scoffed in disbelief. He was shocked that she would doubt him, even now. Just because he was angry that she kept it from him, her panic had immediately made her jump to the worst possible conclusion and assume that he would run and tell everyone it was all a lie. She felt like crap. She tried to take a step forward, but Jon was already leaving the apartment.
"Don't worry," he said, walking out of Gendry's room and going towards the front door. "Your secret is safe with me. It always would have been, but what's done is done. I'll see you guys later."
The door shut behind him with a slamming sound too loud in the emptiness of the apartment.
( THREE DAYS BEFORE JON FOUND OUT )
"I think I want to tell someone," Arya said one afternoon, picking at a large piece of sesame chicken that was drowning in thick sauce. She was looking down at the plastic plate that was full with a bunch of random food items that she'd dumped on it, so she didn't get to see Gendry's reaction, but as she stabbed the piece of chicken and took a bite from it, she heard it.
"Are you crazy?" he asked.
Arya looked up at him from her half-eaten piece of chicken and raised her eyebrows. "What?"
"No, it's just...well, you're the one who made the rules. You're the one who insisted that neither of us should be allowed to tell other people. I wanted to, but then you wrote on the contract, so I just did it so we'd be even—"
"I know what I wrote on the contract," Arya said. "But do you really think Jon would even care?"
Gendry shrugged as he twirled some lo mein on his fork. "I don't see why you shouldn't be able to tell him. But then he would have punched me in vain...oh, well. Tell him if you want."
Arya paused. "You don't care?" she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders once more and shook his head. "Nope," he said once he swallowed his bite of food. "I mean, I don't really see what the big deal is, but yeah. If you want to go tell him, then why should I stop you?"
"But...but the contract—"
"Oh, come on, Arya. It's hardly a legally binding contract. You wrote it on a piece of loose leaf paper with a black pen. Just because you made sure your handwriting was as neat as possible, doesn't mean it's a legitimate contract."
Arya frowned as she looked back down at her plate of food, while Gendry stood up to get himself something to drink. Did that mean he would want to tell someone since he had just given her free reign to do the same thing? It would be hypocritical of her to say no. But now she was thinking that she didn't even want to tell Jon. Because if she told Jon, then that would be admitting to someone outside of her and Gendry that it wasn't real.
And if Gendry chose to tell someone because she was doing it...then he was admitting to someone else that it wasn't real."
"Arya."
"Hm? What?"
"I asked you like three times if you wanted some iced tea. What were you thinking about?"
"Oh...sorry. Sure, I'll take some iced tea, thanks." She accepted the cup with a tight smile. "I was just...you know. Thinking about...well, maybe I won't tell Jon, after all."
Gendry raised one eyebrow. "What changed your mind in the past half a minute?
She shrugged her shoulders. "I just...don't think it would be a good idea. We should probably just keep it as a secret."
( O O O )
It's a long while before Arya manages to fall asleep that night. She kept tossing and turning, feeling like a small child throwing herself around her big bed. All she could do was just stare at her ceiling in the dark, trying her hardest not to look at the numbers that were steadily changing on her clock. If she pushed herself, really pushed herself, she would throw her pride away and forget whatever feelings she felt for Gendry, and just call everything off right now.
It wouldn't be a big deal. She might get a comment from Sansa before she went on to comfort her sister post breakup, but other than that, there would be no lasting consequences. Even though she knew Robb and Jon would question her incessantly about whether or not Gendry hurt her in any way, once they saw them acting completely normal, even they would let it all go.
But the thing was...Arya herself didn't want to let this go. Not one bit. She had spent most of her younger years liking Gendry enough that she tried to hide from him when he was over the house. It took so long to get over those feelings, and she thought they were gone forever. And then he'd texted her that fateful night, and the next thing she knew, she was negotiating terms with him on a contract. A contract that meant nothing to either of them, but still. She could pull it out right now and she'd see it: Gendry's signature, shaky from disuse, right next to Arya's dramatically looping signature.
Every excuse in the entire world came in and out of her head that night as Arya tried to go to sleep. Every reason possible to not text Gendry right now that she was ripping up their contract. She'd gotten so good at fooling herself that if she wasn't so unsure of herself right now, she'd probably believe it.
Everyone had gotten so used to Gendry being her boyfriend over the past two weeks. Even Sansa said they all thought they were good together. She said they made each other better. She said...she had said that Gendry kept looking at her, making sure she was happy, making sure she was having a good time. Jon, after he got his stupid punch out of the way, had even accepted Gendry as not just his friend, but as Arya's boyfriend. Ned was happy that she was happy.
Only she wasn't happy. She wasn't happy at all—she was just confused. Confused because she didn't know what to do about Gendry, or what to do about her own feelings. There were times when she thought to herself that he actually did like her back, times when he would brush a piece of her hair back affectionately even when there wasn't anyone around to see the gesture. Times when he would lean in and kiss her, but his lips would linger close to hers just a few seconds more, or when he settled in next to her in a seat or on the couch and he'd throw his arm around her shoulders like it was so common. Not to mention the throwaway comments he sometimes uttered, like what he'd said in the car the other day about the person meant to be with her being closer than she originally thought. Or like two days ago, when they had been sitting in her room and Ned and come in to jokingly tell them to keep the door open, and Gendry had waited until he was gone to tell Arya he wouldn't even think of doing anything with her in a house so packed he wouldn't be able to take his time.
Just thinking about that comment made her shiver, even while she wore her warmest pajamas and hugged her blanket close to her.
Did that mean he had...thought about her in that way? Not in just a romantic way, but in a more intimate way? Could that even be possible? The thought sent both excited and nervous chills down her spine. God knows she had spent more than enough time thinking about him in that way these past two weeks.
With a whimper of pure helplessness, Arya grabbed her pillow out from under her head and covered her face with it. She had half a mind to try screaming into it, but she doubted that would do any good.
All she could do now...
All she could do now was wait for the pieces to fall where they were supposed to. She thought to herself the other night, sitting in Gendry's car, that she might even start believing in signs of her own.
Maybe now it was time to start putting her faith in them wholeheartedly.
( TWO DAYS BEFORE JON FOUND OUT )
The sound of her alarm clock wakes her up after what feels like approximately three consecutive minutes of sleep. Arya, who had resorted to spreading herself out on her bed like a starfish right in the middle of the mattress, face-down with her head buried in her pillows, let out a frustrated shriek that almost matched the ungodly noises emanating from her alarm clock.
She sits up, partially blinded by the pieces of hair that had managed to stick to her face and cover several parts of her vision, and scrambles to reach for the alarm clock. She slams one hand down on the button right in the middle of its trilling and uses her other hand to rip her hair out of her face, spitting it away from her mouth and trying her hardest to get it under control. Stumbling into the bathroom, she got a good look at herself in the mirror, and almost started crying right there from the exhaustion, frustration, and lack of sleep.
In plain English, and in simplest terms, she looked like a mess. Her hair, too long and too hard to maintain, was sticking up in random places while it was matted to her head in others, really needed to be cut.
Not as short as she used to keep it in high school when it was a severely cut bob that rested right by her chin, but this morning, she looked more like a lion than anything else.
Quickly brushing her teeth and trying her best to run a brush through the tangled mess of her hair, Arya left the bathroom and changed into a pair of sweats and a tank top, fully intending to spend her day relaxing and doing nothing but watch movies on Netflix in order to avoid addressing any of the problems currently warring over prevalence in her mind.
Catelyn was standing in the kitchen when she got downstairs, making herself eggs for breakfast.
"Morning, Mom."
"Morning. Got anything planned for the day?"
Arya shook her head and took out a bowl of for some cereal. "Nope. I finally have a day to myself where I don't have to do anything."
"Sounds like fun."
Arya grinned at her mother. "I'm sure I'm going to have lots of fun while I laze my whole day away in the comfort of my own home."
"Well," Catelyn said, turning off the fire for the stove and sliding her eggs onto a clean plate with a toasted bagel already prepared on it, "don't get too used to it. Because we have our final fittings for our dresses coming up tomorrow, and you don't want Sansa to have your head for showing up at the store late."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Arya promised. "Hey, Mom?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think I should cut my hair?"
Catelyn starts in surprise, quirking one eyebrow. "I don't know. I never did like the way your hair was when you were a freshman in high school—"
"Mom, I was fifteen and going through a 'phase'. But don't you think it's getting too long?"
"I don't know. Sansa's hair is longer than yours and her hair looks gorgeous."
"Sansa also looks a lot more feminine than I do, and long hair looks better on her."
"Then maybe you should cut it. Not a lot, though—you looked almost like a boy when it was so short."
Arya tapped her spoon against the side of her bowl, mulling over the thought as she chewed her cereal.
"I don't think I'll spend my day lazing around the house after all," she announced.
Two hours later, she walked out of the hair salon with her hair three and a half inches shorter than it used to be, just brushing her shoulder blades. She felt like her head was at least five pounds lighter than it was when she had woken up this morning.
Sansa would probably shriek in surprise when she saw how she'd cut her hair, and she'd most definitely say something about how it would affect the hairstyle she had in mind for Arya to wear at her wedding, but as Arya caught a glimpse of herself through the reflection of a store window she passed by, she ran her hand through her hair and smiled to herself.
It actually looked pretty great.
Maybe this could be one of the changes she'd start working on in her life.
( O O O )
"Woah. Your hair..."
"It's shorter, I know," Arya said breezily, pushing past Gendry and walking into his apartment like it was her own. "It's not short short, but I think it's nice. I got it done today, you know, as a way to piss off Sansa right before her wedding," she joked as she took her seat in her usual bar stool and began slowly spinning around it mindlessly.
"What brought on the change?"
"Just thought that I would try to mix things up a bit in my life."
"And you thought your hair was the right place to start?"
Arya looked over at him as Gendry took the bar stool across from her, leaning his elbows on the counter that separated them. "Are you trying to suggest that my life has several areas in need of some mixing up that are more serious than what I choose to do with my hair?"
"No, shut up and stop being so dramatic," he retorted, rolling his eyes. "I...I like it."
She touched the ends self-consciously. "You do?"
"Yeah. It looks better like this. Not as short as you used to keep it, but when it was as long as it was before...I don't know, it wasn't you."
She smiled to herself happily. Was she supposed to take that as a sign that he liked specific things she wore, or that there were certain styles she tried that Gendry noticed, and actually liked more than others? She spun a piece of hair around her pinky finger absentmindedly as she thought it over, winding it tight and releasing it before doing it again. "Thanks. I think it suits me better like this, too. Long hair is Sansa's thing, not mine. I'm no Rapunzel. But, as my mother so eagerly reminded me earlier today, I used to look almost like a boy when I was in my early years of high school, and I'm not trying to recreate that look again." Arya laughed lightly at the thought.
Gendry laughed with her, shaking his head. "No, it wasn't that bad. You didn't look like a boy. At least, not to me, you didn't. I thought you looked kind of cute with the short hair."
Arya froze and looked up at him from under her eyelashes, not daring to pick her head up from where she kept it bowed towards the counter. She didn't trust herself to speak without sounding like a high-pitched twelve-year-old boy before puberty.
"You thought I was cute when I looked like a boy?" she asked finally.
Gendry snorted. "I just said I didn't think you looked like a boy. God, do you ever even listen to me?" He tutted at her mockingly and stood up to grab a water bottle from his fridge, throwing one for Arya to catch as well.
Arya just barely managed to catch it, even though there was barely a five feet gap between where she was sitting on her side of the counter, and where Gendry was standing by the open door of the refrigerator. She muttered a quiet thanks to him and twisted off the cap, taking a long sip so she wouldn't have to say anything else. She tried to keep the water bottle by her mouth long enough for Gendry to add something else, but she eventually had to take it away to breathe, so she settled for simply waiting for him to speak.
"But...yeah," he said eventually. "I guess I thought you were pretty cute."
Arya smiled hesitantly. "Don't let Jon or Robb hear you saying that," she advised, her voice coming out carefully like she was afraid to say the wrong thing and shatter whatever moment was currently passing between them. "Not unless you want a repeat of Jon's punch, plus another one from Robb."
Gendry snorted and waved his hand absently in the air as if he was brushing aside her concerns like it was a mere house fly getting in the way. "Well, I'm already dating you. What, do they expect me to not find you attractive?"
"Well, of course, but there's a difference between thinking I'm attractive now and thinking that I was attractive at fourteen and fifteen when you were nineteen—wait." Arya stopped short and thumbed the cap slowly. "Did you just say you were dating me?"
Their eyes met from across the counter, a few beats of silence pulsing between the space that separated them. Gendry's eyebrows furrowed together. "I mean, um, yeah." He coughed once. "You know, we're, um...dating. The wedding. The contract...dating," he stammered.
Arya nodded slowly. She was barely even registering the words she was hearing. All she could do was nod like a puppet. "...Yeah," she said softly. "The contract...dating."
Gendry's eyes fell down to her lips, and then they shot back up to her face, that one small movement splintering their moment into a million pieces.
Arya stands up and goes over to the couch, snatching up her bag and flinging it over her shoulder. Stupid, stupid. Whatever she thought she could do by dropping hints for Gendry to pick up on weren't going to work. He made it clear where he stood on his thoughts on dating her, obviously unable to separate the idea of being with her from the stupid contract she had been idiotic enough to write up in the first place. Who writes up a contract for these things anyway? Had she been subconsciously trying to get fucked by her own plans, or was she just that stupid?
She closed her eyes for a brief moment and then took a deep breath before she turned around.
Gendry was standing right behind her, close enough that her bag just brushed his abdomen as she swung around to see him hovering close enough to her that it would be so easy to just reach out and touch him.
Arya looked up at him, suddenly so aware of the height difference between them. Their close proximity only meant that she had to tilt her head back further than usual to actually be able to look at him properly. She swallowed cautiously, opening her mouth and closing it for a few seconds. "I think I'm going to go home," she said on her second try.
Gendry could do nothing but nod, but he didn't make any move to get out of her way so she could leave. So the two of them just stood there, her neck tilted up and his leaning down towards her, the silence stretching out for far too long.
Finally, Arya couldn't handle it anymore. If she stood there any longer, she would start crying. And she would rather die than allow Gendry to see her cry. He might not be aware that they were locked in some kind of battle of whose willpower was stronger, but she knew they were fighting for control, and she refused to lose. "I'm just going to...go," she said.
Gendry nodded.
He still wasn't moving.
"Gendry, I have to..." She gestured with her hand for him to move aside so he wasn't trapping her against the couch anymore.
He started and shook his head quickly as if he was trying to clear his mind. "Right. Sorry," he said, stepping aside so he was pressed against the wall.
Arya walked to the door, feeling him follow her closely behind. She unlocked the door and twisted the doorknob, making it right outside the apartment before turning back around. "I'll see you around," she said.
"Yeah," Gendry said quietly. "See you."
( ONE DAY BEFORE JON FINDS OUT )
"Sansa, are you...positive this is the dress you want me to wear for your wedding?" Arya asked for the hundredth time as she shifted in front of the mirror, trying to get a good look at the back of the dress.
Sansa sat on the sofa behind her, one leg crossed gracefully over the other. She was sipping at an iced latte, somehow looking impeccable despite the long day they had ahead of them. Her long red hair had been straightened and pulled up into a high ponytail tied tightly at the top of her head and thrown over her left shoulder, her wavy hair cascading down the front of her body, and she was wearing a white turtleneck sweater dress and a pair of black suede boots.
She didn't have her final dress fitting until two days from now, which meant she was able to sit back comfortably, drink her iced coffee, and simply command certain orders and tweaks to the dresses as she watched Arya fidget in the mirror.
The dress Sansa had picked out for her to wear was a dusty rose colored woven gown with double spaghetti straps, an embroidered brocade bodice, and a chiffon skirt, the deep V of the neckline plunging just a bit further than Arya was used to but not entirely uncomfortable with.
It wasn't that she didn't like the dress. In fact, it was gorgeous. She was surprised with how much she loved it.
And yet...
"What's wrong with the dress?" Sansa asked as she bit the straw for her coffee.
"It's just so...it's so beautiful."
Sansa snorted. "Yeah. That's kind of the point," she pointed out. "There was absolutely no way in hell I was going to be one of those brides who purposefully choose the ugliest dresses for their bridesmaids and maid of honor to wear so I could make sure I was the most beautiful person in the room."
"How considerate of you," Arya said absentmindedly as she gathered the chiffon skirt in her hand and twisted her head over her shoulder to try and get a good look at the open back of the dress.
Sansa shook her head. "Nope. It's just that I also refuse to be the kind of bride who's so horribly insecure that she feels like she has to make everyone else look ugly so she can be the beautiful one."
Arya smiled to herself and sighed, dropping the skirts from her hand to the floor and turning around on the podium to face Sansa fully. "Okay. Be honest. What do you think?"
Sansa leaned her head to the side as she inspected the dress carefully, the hand that wasn't holding her coffee stretched out on the back of the sofa. "I think it's perfect."
Arya blushed and looked down at the pale fabric. "Really?"
Sansa nodded. "Ohhh, yeah," she said, standing up and setting down her latte on the coffee table. She approached Arya on the podium and turned her back around to face the mirror, putting her hands on her shoulders. "You look beautiful. This dress is...finally, finally perfect. And in just a few days, you'll be wearing it in front of everyone so don't do anything to get it dirty," she ordered sternly, tugging on the double spaghetti straps in warning. "Gendry's going to shit himself when he sees you."
Arya let out a laugh in surprise. "Sansa!"
Sansa met her shocked gaze in the mirror, her face the picture of perfect innocence. "What?" she asked, the paragon of politeness. "I didn't say anything."
Arya shook her head in mocking admonishment. "For shame, Sansa," she chided teasingly. "Does Willas know you have such a potty mouth, and a dirty mind to match it?" she asked.
Her sister rested her chin on her shoulder and winked. "He does me one better. He supports it one hundred percent."
"Okay!" Arya said an octave higher than usual, shoving Sansa away from her as Sansa laughed loudly. "That's enough out of you."
Sansa allowed herself to laugh for a few seconds more before she settled down, shifting her weight to one leg as she folded her arms across her chest. "But really," she said, her voice taking on a more serious note as she observed Arya making her way down from the podium. "How are you and Gendry? Since...you know, since you told me you thought things weren't working out the way you thought they would?"
Arya disappeared behind the curtain of the dressing room and raised her arms as the worker who had been helping them all day began assisting Arya in carefully removing the dress around all the pins so she didn't accidentally stab herself. She waited until the dress was off all the way before answering through the curtain. "Um...I'm not sure how to explain it," she replied honestly.
She quickly dressed again in the outfit she'd arrived in: A red off the shoulder top with long bell sleeves and a pair of fitted black pants with zips on the ankles. The outfit was courtesy of Sansa, who had stopped by the house the other day to drop off some clothes as a gift to Arya.
"You need these more than I do," she told Arya as she dropped the box of clothes on the floor of her closet. Sansa had also gone back to her closet in her old room and sorted through the stuff that no longer fit her or the clothes that she didn't like anymore and passed them down to Arya as well. They'd spent the rest of the day in Arya's closet, Sansa reorganizing the entire space while Arya watched in awe as the closet was transformed before her very eyes.
"Well, try to explain it," Sansa told her as Arya reappeared from behind the curtain.
Arya took her bag and put it over her shoulder, swiftly sweeping her hair into a messy ponytail to get it out of her face. "I'm still not sure what we're going to do," she admitted. "But I think I know the direction we're heading."
"Is this...a good direction, or a bad direction?" Sansa asked.
"I don't think I'm ready to tell you yet," Arya said simply. "I think I'll wait until I've made up my mind for sure."
Sansa nodded once firmly. "Fair enough," she agreed as they walked out of the store, linking their elbows together. "Now, what do you say we get some lunch? I'm starving, and there's a sushi restaurant just three blocks away."
Arya grinned and nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
( O O O )
Later that day, when the sky had already turned dark and Arya had shut herself away in the privacy of her own room, she thought about what she'd told Sansa earlier by the dress shop. It was true that she wasn't sure what she wanted to do yet, but was it true that she wasn't sure what direction they were going in yet? It seemed that with every day that passed, Arya just found yet another reason to call the whole thing off. She glanced at her phone and, after a heartbeat of hesitation, she grabbed it and went to text Gendry.
Arya: Can I come over tomorrow?
The reply came almost immediately
Gendry: I think that's the first time you've ever asked me to invite you over.
Arya: I'm being serious, Gendry. Can I come over tomorrow?
Gendry: Yeah, sure. What's up?
Arya: I just think we need to talk.
Gendry: About?
Arya: This.
Gendry: This?
Arya: The agreement.
Gendry: Are you breaking it off?
Arya: Not sure yet. That's what I think we need to talk about tomorrow.
Gendry: Got it. See you tomorrow.
That was it. Just see you tomorrow? He clearly had some kind of idea about what this was all about since he guessed it right away, and she'd basically confirmed what he was thinking.
And all he could say was see you tomorrow.
All that did was solidify her decision. She had no other choice—Arya couldn't keep doing this to herself. She couldn't keep fooling herself with romantic notions that Gendry felt the same way about her and that he would sweep her off her feet so that they could ride off into the sunset after the wedding, all without her ever even speaking about how she felt with him.
And despite how much she wanted to tell him, despite how badly she wanted to crack open and spill her truth all over his personal space, she simply couldn't. She wasn't strong enough for that yet.
All her life, with every relationship she'd ever been in, she'd always been in control. And that was exactly how Arya liked to have it. She liked knowing that she had control over when Jackson Goldbloom left their shared algebra class, depending on whether she took her time packing up her things or if she rushed out of the class like a bat out of hell, just because he liked being near her at all times. She liked knowing that Michael Fitzgerald would never dare touch her without her nod of approval, even when she was sitting in the backseat of his car with her shirt flung over the headrest of the passenger seat because he knew she would have no issue leaving him shirtless in his car with his button uncomfortably undone. She liked seeing how Daniel Spector had agonized over whether or not to take the job playing Prince Désiré in Sleeping Beauty because it would mean having to leave her, despite the amazing opportunity it presented for his career as a dancer. And with Edric, even though their relationship had been anything but exciting or even fun, she still held the reigns when it came to how far they went, what they did, and how often it happened.
But with Gendry...with Gendry, she'd lost all that control. And it terrified her to no end.
And that was why she had to put a stop to it, now.
Before she lost all control.
( THE DAY THAT JON FINDS OUT )
The weather is eerily nice for a day in February in New York.
Arya had her jacket on over her sweater, but by the time she made it outside, she had to squint to keep the sun out of her eyes. It was nearing the end of the month, so most of the snow was gone already, and even though it was still cool outside, she was able to shrug out of her jacket and sit comfortably in her car while it started up.
On the way to Gendry's apartment, Arya couldn't help the feeling that she was making a huge mistake. What if she told him she wanted to end their agreement and he refused? Despite the fact that they said they wouldn't hold it against the other if they decided to back out, she still felt paranoid—she couldn't help it.
Or...Arya's mind went to an even worse place as her hands tightened around the wheel. Or what if he actually did have real feelings for her and he thought she didn't because she told him she was calling their deal quits. The thought turned her stomach unpleasantly.
She really should have eaten breakfast before running out of the house, but she couldn't bring herself to force even a bite of toast down her throat.
There was no shortage of possibilities when it came to imagining Gendry's reaction when she told him what she'd decided. She knew, now, that if she told everyone they broke up, no one would hold it against her for not having a date.
Sansa might ask her cautiously if Arya wanted her to ask a friend of hers to be her date for the night, but Arya already knew she would politely refuse and say no.
Even though this was a fake relationship, she would need to take a bit of time to herself to heal.
( O O O )
"Your texts seemed a bit short last night," Gendry said as a greeting, holding the door open for her while he stepped aside to let Arya into his apartment.
Arya smiled tightly at him and shrugged her shoulders slightly. "Sorry. I just...really need to talk to you, I guess."
"Yeah," he said, shutting the door, "you said that last night. About...us. This. Whatever it is. What's up?"
Arya looked around the apartment, so familiar to her, and bit her lip. "Um. Do you mind if I just...use the bathroom first?" she asked.
Gendry shrugged and nodded. "Sure, no problem. I'm sure you know where it is." He pointed it out anyway, but Arya as already making her way down the short hallway.
She knew this apartment like the back of her hand. The first bedroom in the hallway was Gendry's, and then right next to it was a small coat closet that he used to hang all of his jackets (he really did have a hoarding problem), and on the other side of the hallway was the second bedroom, or what Gendry had turned into a small home office for his work space, and then next to it was the apartment's only bathroom.
Arya shut the door behind her and locked it, turning to face the mirror. She looked at her reflection, pale from both the lack of sun in this cold winter weather and from her nerves. She wished she hadn't left her jacket in the car. She wasn't cold—Gendry always had the heat on in his car. She just wanted something to wrap closely around her body for protection. Arya wasn't exactly sure what she wanted—or needed—protection from, but she couldn't help feeling like she needed to shield herself from something. It was stupid paranoia.
Breathing in deep, Arya flushed the toilet so Gendry could hear it and turned on the tap, splashing some water on her face while it was still on.
Gendry was standing in his room when she got out of the bathroom.
She joined him in there, moving to sit on his bed while he stared at a shelf floating on his wall, lined with CDs, his back to her.
"You're here to call it off, right?" he asked.
Arya was caught off guard. In retrospect, she really shouldn't have been as surprised as she was. Even reading her texts from last night, she could see how tense she must have sounded to Gendry, not responding to him with her usual sarcasm at all.
But what really got her was his voice. He didn't sound upset, just...blank. Like there was no emotion in his voice at all.
"Um...yeah, I think so," she replied after a few beats of silence. "I, um...I think it's probably for the best if we don't do...this anymore." She waved her hand between them even though his back was still facing her.
Gendry finally turned to look at her, and his face was just as emotionless as his voice had sounded. He came to sit next to her on the bed, putting one knee up and planting his other foot firmly on the ground. Arya quickly shifted her body so they were facing each other. "Do you mind if I ask why?" he asked. "I mean, if you got another date or something, that's great—"
"No," Arya interrupted quickly. "No, it's nothing like that."
"Then why did you decide to end it now?"
Arya thought about it for a moment, biting her lip. "I...don't know. I think agreeing to fake it all was a mistake from the beginning."
Gendry raised his eyebrows, and he looked like he was about to make a comment.
"I just mean," Arya continued quickly before he could interrupt her thought process, "that it's wrong to lie to everyone about what we're doing. It's not fair to them, you know. I mean, Sansa is practically planning another wedding already."
She shouldn't have said that, really. She saw the way Gendry glanced down quickly, the tips of his ears turning pink.
Arya wanted to slap herself.
"I mean. You know. Obviously, that wouldn't be happening. We shouldn't have...we shouldn't have done this, you know, because we're so close. And you're so much a part of my family. We should have taken into consideration how everyone else would take it. I had no idea they would...react the way they did. So, um, I have the contract in my bag. I know it literally means nothing, but it's still something, and—"
"Arya?"
Arya startled at the sound of her name coming from behind her.
She knew that voice. That voice used to calm her down when she fell off her bike a hundred times while she was trying to learn how to ride. That voice told her to shut up when she purposefully spoke loudly while they were watching a movie together.
Gendry's eyes had gone wide, and she quickly scrambled off of Gendry's bed. He followed her, his hand immediately wrapping around her wrist as she turned around.
And came face to face with Jon.
( THE DAY AFTER JON FOUND OUT )
"What happened yesterday?"
Arya looks up to find Robb standing in her doorway, his eyebrows raised expectantly. He doesn't look angry, so she assumes Jon kept his promise and didn't say anything about her and Gendry's secret, but he still looks suspicious. She moves to sit up on her bed, setting her phone aside and flipping it so it was face down on her blankets.
"With what?" she asked, trying to see how long she could last by playing the innocent act.
Robb gave her a look that told her he knew exactly what she was trying to do. "Yeah, don't try that with me," he said, walking into her room. "I had drinks with Jon last night.
"Oh?" Her voice lifted a bit higher on the word, but hopefully, he didn't pick up on that.
"Yeah. He called me yesterday morning telling me he needed to get something off his chest and I had to meet him at the bar that night."
Arya felt her heart start to race. If Jon said he needed to get something off his chest...maybe he had splintered under the pressure of his anger and told Robb everything he had found out yesterday. Maybe Robb was just trying to see how long Arya would keep up her straight face before he told her that he, too, was aware of what she'd done.
"And what is it that Jon needed to get off his chest?" she asked casually.
"Beats me," Robb said, throwing his hands up in the air. "He wouldn't tell me shit. I met him at the bar, and then he just ordered a beer and glared at the bartender all night."
Arya furrowed her brow in genuine confusion. "Why was he glaring at the bartender?" she asked.
"I have no idea! I asked if he tried to flirt with Ygritte one night that they went down there and he wanted me to help him, you know, threaten the guy a little bit, tell him that Ygritte was a woman engaged and her husband to be had a whole family of strong men just waiting to beat up some guy who didn't know his place. But he told me that wasn't it. Then, all he said was your name—"
Arya's heartbeat stopped its rapid pounding. It stopped altogether.
"—and then that was it! For the rest of the night. All he said was 'No. Arya.' And then he just ordered another beer and stayed silent for the next three hours. Three hours, Arya. Do you know how much brooding Jon can accomplish in three hours? He's like, the king of brooding. I have no idea how he does it all. So you need to tell me what happened yesterday between the two of you."
Arya wanted to cry. She wanted to really, truly cry. Even pissed off at her, Jon would never turn his back on her or break a promise he'd made to her. There was a reason they had always been the closest of all Stark siblings, and even when he probably didn't trust her right now, she could still count on him to keep her secrets when she needed him to. Despite feeling angry enough to tell someone.
She shook her head. "It's, um. It's personal."
Robb snorted. "Please. If it was personal, you and Jon would be fine by now. I know you guys. I lived in the same house as you guys for years. You two don't fight. And when you do, it's more often than not about someone or something else. So what happened yesterday? Because I'm not spending the next month with Brooding Jon. Brooding Jon is not fun, especially when he's Drunkenly Brooding Jon."
Arya bit her lip, her teeth digging sharply into her skin. "It's nothing, really. It's just something with Gendry."
"Gendry?" Robb repeated, and Arya nodded hesitantly. "Shit, Arya, do I have to go kick his ass now? Because Gendry's my friend. What did he do?"
"Nothing, I swear. It's just, Jon walked in on us when we were in the middle of a...discussion. He used Gendry's spare key and we were in his room so we didn't hear him coming in, and we were in the middle of, y'know, talking when Jon walked in and he was really...upset by what he'd overheard. So then he just—what?" Arya asked.
Robb was looking more furious by the second, his face turning red.
"What did I say?"
"A discussion? He overheard something?" he repeated. "Arya, I swear to God, if he walked in on you having sex with Gendry, then I will have to go kick his ass, because I—"
"Oh, my God, we weren't having sex! Why do you and Jon always assume we're having sex?"
"Wait, I'm sorry, what? Since when did Jon assume you two were having sex?"
She really needed to stop talking. All Arya was doing at this point was digging herself into a deeper hole every second.
"Okay," Arya said. She moved up to sit on her haunches, taking Robb's hand to pull him towards her. He sat on the edge of her bed, looking apprehensive and very likely to go murder Gendry right now. "Look. I was not having sex with Gendry yesterday. I wasn't having sex with him because we haven't had sex at all. Jon walked in on us while we were having a bit of a fight. And I'm not sure where we stand right now, but I'm going to go talk it out with Jon first. And then I'm going to go talk it out with Gendry."
Robb still looked ready to punch Gendry, but his shoulders relaxed just slightly. Arya breathed a sigh of relief and closed her eyes.
"No," he said eventually. Arya opened her eyes and cocked an eyebrow. "You shouldn't talk to Jon right now. If this happened yesterday, chances are he's still stewing. If you talk to him now, you'll only get grunts in response."
"You're right," she relented. "So what should I do?"
Robb laughed. "Are you asking me for relationship advice, little sister?"
"Are you going to be an asshole about this, big brother?"
"No. You should go talk to Gendry. As soon as possible, honestly. Chances are, he's sitting in his apartment trying to figure out what to do now."
"What, he doesn't know? I thought Gendry had it all figured out when it came to girls."
Robb mussed up her hair affectionately. "I don't know if you've noticed this as of yet, Arya, but you're not most girls. And you're especially not like the girls Gendry's dated in the past."
( O O O )
Arya doesn't bother texting Gendry before arriving at his doorstep. But she does stand outside his door for a good five minutes, her forehead pressed to his door as she debated whether or not it was worth it to knock.
She didn't want to mess this up. But it had somehow gotten so complicated over the past couple of weeks. She wasn't sure if she could handle it anymore. Then again, when had she ever been the type of person to back down from a challenge.
Arya closed her eyes and squeezed them shut as tight as possible, knocking on Gendry's door three times. They were three hard, solid knocks. Even if he were in one of the rooms, he was sure to hear it.
Gendry answered the door after only two minutes, and he was tugging at the hem of the white undershirt he was wearing. Arya knew him well enough that she knew that meant he had either been laying in his bed or spread out on the couch, wearing nothing but his sweats when she'd knocked and he'd rushed to pull a shirt over his head while simultaneously making his way to the front door.
"Oh." He sounded surprised to see her. She couldn't blame him for that. She had, after all, rushed out of the apartment as quickly as she could yesterday. The second Jon had slammed the door shut behind him, Arya had pulled free of Gendry's grasp and stumbled over her words and her feet, trying to get out as fast as possible. She still wasn't sure if it was to run away from the conversation they had been in the middle of before Jon interrupted them, or to go after Jon. Either way, she was here now. She hoped that still counted for something.
Gendry slowly stepped aside, opening the door a little wider for her to walk through. "Come on in." She walked into the apartment, and her eyes immediately fell on the containers lining the kitchen counter. Right as she saw them, Gendry said, "It's perfect timing that you came, to be honest. The Chinese food guy just left like, ten minutes ago. So you're more than welcome to have some."
Why were her eyes stinging? It was stupid that she should feel tears threatening to fall right now.
"Thanks," she said softly. "I, uh, haven't eaten today, so I'm pretty starving." And she was; she could feel her stomach rumble to life at the smell of Chinese food.
They quietly assemble themselves in their usual positions by the kitchen counter. Arya hops up onto her stool and kicks her legs freely, her hands finding the sesame chicken with no trouble. Gendry sits across from her and takes the container of egg rolls, passing her a paper plate and setting two of the egg rolls down in front of her.
It's quiet for a few more minutes as they load their plates with food. Arya gets to work cutting her egg rolls in half, scooping out the insides and throwing the shell in the now-empty container, drizzling duck sauce over her small pile of shredded cabbage, garlic, onion, carrots, and ginger. She heard Gendry snort quietly but he didn't say anything; he knew by now that Arya couldn't stand biting into the deep fried shell of the egg roll.
"So, I talked to Jon today," Gendry said after a couple of minutes of silence. He wasn't looking at her. His eyes were fixed resolutely on his full plate, his piles of lo mein, rice, chicken, and egg rolls mixing together so his plate looked like a hot mess. But Arya knew him as well, and she knew that was how he preferred to eat his food, all jumbled together.
How well they both knew each other, and yet, when it came to actual feelings, neither of them knew the first move to make.
"Oh? What happened?"
"He came over this morning. We had a nice chat."
Arya eyed him suspiciously, her fork scooping a small mound of white rice mixed with chicken. "Are you being sarcastic?" she asked.
"Only slightly. I could tell it was him, just by the way he started banging on my door out of nowhere, and it did take a bit of convincing to get him to refrain from punching me."
"...But?"
"But we eventually sat down and talked."
Was he being stubborn on purpose?
"And then what?" Arya asked in frustration.
Gendry's lips twitched slightly, still keeping his eyes on his food, but she noticed the small smirk. She wished the space under the island was empty so she could kick him in the shin. "He told me we should continue this." He used his fork to gesture between them before grabbing two cups and bringing out a liter of soda from his fridge, passing her one of them.
Arya was taken aback. She barely realized that she was taking the drink from Gendry. "What?"
"Yeah. He said we've done it this long enough already. I kind of...agree with him. Unless you still want to end this."
Arya didn't know what to do. Did she want to end this? Or did she want to continue? Continue taking chances with Gendry, seeing where this could go? He had told her about his conversation with Jon. He could have easily told her that he refused Jon outright and told her to rip up their contract as a sign of finality, but...
But.
She shoved her fork into her mouth, using it as an excuse to buy herself time as she tried to figure out what to do. But in all honesty, she didn't need time to ponder her decision.
By the time she swallowed, she knew her answer.
"So," Arya said, stabbing another piece of sesame chicken, "same rules still apply?"
Gendry grinned at her, raising his cup to hers. "Same rules still apply," he agreed, "sweetheart."
Arya matched his grin as she tapped her cup against his.