BRAN
Bran walked home with a smile on his face.
That was the first time he'd ever been so close to a girl. Sure, he had several friends who are girls, even the president's daughter, Myrcella Baratheon, but he had never been drawn to any of them the way he was drawn to Meera.
Even when he arrived at his place in the Aquamarine, freshened up, and lay on his bed, he still couldn't stop thinking about her. The image of Meera was still spiraling in his thoughts. Her brown curls, her green eyes and, her warm smile.
The penthouse his parents had bought was a 250 square meter three-bedroom unit at the top floor of the Aquamarine. Its second floor was a mezzanine, which meant it was partly open to the floor below. In their case, it overlooked the living room below from the hallway with steel rail and tempered glass.
The three bedrooms were placed beside each other and they were all facing the railed hallway that looked down on the living room. The largest bedroom was built on one end, to which it overlooked the pool outside the balcony. The upstairs bathroom was right across the bedroom on the other end, by the staircase.
Bran took the largest bedroom, of course. His bedroom was larger, yes, but was nothing much. Sure, it had a king-sized bed that he slept alone in, a walk-in closet, and its own bathroom and remote-controlled fireplace, but everything else was pretty much similar to the things he had in his room in their house in Winterfell.
He had a work desk with two computer monitors; a corkboard on the wall right above the monitors for school notes; a comfy leather boss chair; a few bookshelves with his favorite books and file boxes; even an ottoman by his fireplace as he liked to sit there with a cup of coffee, especially when it's snowing.
The last person who occupied the master bedroom was his brother, Robb, while the other two spare bedrooms were occupied by his sisters. So when Robb graduated, Bran took the largest room. His sisters didn't even argue when he claimed it. And now, Beren Tallhart occupied the room Sansa used to own.
His bed had two nightstands with lamps on either side and he had even installed a lamp on his headboard because he liked to read a book before going to sleep.
But now even with the lights off, and it was quiet except for the cracking of fire in his room's fireplace, he still couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned but no, sleep didn't get to him at all.
Until much later, he heard a commotion downstairs. He assumed it was just his roommate, Beren Tallhart. But when he heard a loud bang, like furniture was being destroyed, he instantly got up. That could not have been Beren.
He heard about cases of burglary around White Harbor, especially in the suburban areas. But flats aren't that different as there were still reports on it. So Bran scrambled about the toolbox below his desk and took the largest and lightest tool he could find that can be used as a weapon, which happened to be a crowbar, before slowly tiptoeing downstairs.
The console table near the main doors was overturned. The glass flower vases and figurines on it were broken in pieces on the floor. The phone landline was disconnected from the router. And he could see a silhouette of a hunched person clambering on floor.
Bran tightened his grip on the crowbar ready to strike. As he got closer, he noticed the guy was wearing a familiar leather jacket. But before he could make the swing, he managed to step on one of the shattered pieces of glass on the floor.
The guy on the floor turned his head and raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, wait!" A familiar voice yelped. "Wait!"
He lowered down the crowbar. "Beren?"
"Yeah, it's me." Beren confirmed.
Bran turned on the light switches and it was indeed his roommate, Beren Tallhart.
"Holy shitballs, Stark!" Beren screamed. "You scared the living daylights out of me."
"I thought you were a burglar."
"How would a burglar get to the thirty-fifth floor of the Aquamarine?" Beren drunkenly asked, trying to get to his feet, but stumbled down. "I think I had too much tequila."
Bran snorted. "You think?" He set down the crowbar and helped his roommate up to his feet. He had Beren's arm around his shoulder for support.
"Just get me to the couch, man," Beren suggested. "I'll be fine." He settled onto the couch. "Thanks, man. I'll clean up the mess in the morning, I swear."
"There's no need," Bran assured as he headed to the kitchen. "I'll do it myself." He took out a broom and dustpan and went to clean up the mess.
"It's 3am, why are you still awake?" Beren spoke up.
Bran glanced at the digital clock in the living room. 01:34, it read. "It's only 1am." He corrected.
"Hmm, I guess I was early." Beren said. "Dude, graduation's in three weeks, and you're done with your final project. How are you still awake?"
"I can't sleep."
"Oh, I know why," Beren said in a sarcastic tone. "It's that girl earlier, isn't it?" He teased, clapping his hands. "Aww, little Bran is in love!"
"Okay, now I believe that you had too much tequila." He pointed out. "And you won't remember anything you said in the morning."
"I probably won't," Beren agreed. "But sober me probably remembers about that girl you were with yesterday." He yawned. "Congratulations, man."
Before Bran could answer, he already heard Beren snoring on the couch. Afterwards, he went back to his room and forced himself to sleep.
The following morning, Bran woke up and went downstairs to find Beren still snoring on one of the couches. He made himself breakfast, eggs sunny-side up, bacon and pancakes and sat on one of the barstools by the island counter, before remembering to text Meera.
At first, he texted her if he could call her instead because he was too lazy to do a lot of texting. She replied with a Sure and a rofl smiley face emoji.
"Hey!" Meera answered, giggling. "You still had me with a text that said you were too lazy to text."
"Sorry," He apologized. "I didn't think you'd answer an unknown number."
"I work for the Northern Herald." She pointed out. "We're used to getting calls from unknown numbers."
"So, are we still on tonight?" Bran asked.
"Of course," Meera said. "I've been looking forward to it."
"Great!" He managed to say louder than usual. "Um, so I'll pick you up?"
"You do remember that we agreed to walk, right?" She reminded him. "And then we'd grab shish kebabs from the Cornucopia before heading to the Starkgrand."
"Right, I'm just…checking." He said. "I'll see you tonight."
"Okay, bye." Meera said before hanging up.
Bran smiled as he placed back his phone in his pocket before going back to eating his breakfast.
"Who is that?" Beren spoke up.
It startled Bran that he nearly threw his fork. He turned to his right and saw Beren standing by the opened fridge with a milk carton in hand, and he had a ridiculous smirk on his face.
How Beren managed to make it to the kitchen while being hangover and without him noticing took some skill. He had taken off his leather jacket was only in his white t-shirt and his hair literally looked like he had just rolled out of bed, or couch, whichever.
"Seriously?" Bran complained. "Will you stop that?"
Beren shrugged. "Stop what?"
Bran was about to say something but was interrupted again.
"Whoa!" Beren gasped. "What the fuck happened there?" He asked, pointing at the foyer. "Where are the vases? And why is there a crowbar on the console table?"
Bran narrowed his eyes at him. "Well, obviously, you don't remember anything that happened last night." He said. "You came home drunk and accidentally bumped into the console table and broke all the vases."
Beren scratched his head. "Oh, um, I'm sorry about that." He frowned. "And the crowbar?"
"That was for self-defense. I literally thought you were a burglar."
"Anyways," Beren continued as he poured milk into a glass. "Who was that on the phone you were talking to?"
"Just a friend."
Beren raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't just smile like that if it's just a 'friend', Bran." He said, quoting his fingers in the air. "It is the girl from the café?"
Bran shrugged. "Well, yes, but—"
"Woohoo!" Beren cheered. "Finally!" He placed down his glass of milk on the kitchen counter. "I'm so proud of you, man. It took you four years to actually get a date, but whatever. Progress is progress. And plus points if you get laid tonight."
"What the fuck?" Bran shrieked. "It's not a date." He argued. "We're just going to the Slam Poetry jam in Starkgrand. That's it."
"Is it just the two of you?"
"Well, yeah, but—"
"Then it is a date." Beren insisted.
Bran rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He cleared his throat. "What about you? What are you gonna do when I'm off?" He asked.
Beren emptied his third glass of milk. "Well, you don't have to worry about me bumping into the console table." He assured. "I'm heading home back to Torrhen's Square. My cousin Benfred is getting married tomorrow to some chick from Ironrath and they said I need to be there because I'm family. And I think your parents are invited to the wedding." He poured more milk from the carton but nothing came out. "Fuck, I need more milk."
It was Beren's cure to a hangover: either drinking cartons of milk, eating a box of cereal with milk or eating tons of bananas.
"There's loads of that in the supermarket." He pointed out.
"Nevermind, I'll go for bananas." Beren said as he grabbed about three bananas from the kitchen counter's basket of fruits.
Beren ended up leaving before lunch because his Mom was constantly calling him about needing to get his tux, or that he needed to accompany his older brother to their cousin's bachelor's party or some other reason.
Around 5:30, Bran got ready. He didn't believe in the dress-to-impress notion his brother Robb and sister Sansa always had. He dresses for comfort, just like his other sister Arya always did, and not care about what people think or say. In fact, Arya got into an argument with their Mom, Catelyn because she preferred wearing a classy jumpsuit to a formal event than a dress.
He kept it simple, the way he always did, with only a long-sleeved shirt, trousers, and sneakers. And among his siblings, he probably held the record for having the most long-sleeved shirts, even more than Robb, Jon and Theon ever did.
Bran walked to Meera's place as he promised her that they never had to take a cab or drive their cars. He was waiting for her in the Greenwood's lobby.
"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." A familiar voice spoke from behind him.
He turned and it was Meera. Wow, he thought.
Even though what she wore was simple, she looked absolutely beautiful. She wore a white t-shirt whose moss green print speaks just about every insult you can hear about the people who lived in the Neck. Crannogmen & Frogeaters & Bogdevils & Mudmen, it said. She also had black trousers on with a green checkered shirt tied around her waist probably used as a belt, high-cut sneakers and she had a small crossbody bag slung on her shoulder. But what really sold it was how Meera's curly brown hair draped over her shoulders, how her green eyes sparkled and her warm smile just lights up the entire room.
Bran was so lost in thought (again), that Meera had to snap her fingers in his face.
"Hey," She called. "You okay?"
"Um, yeah." He said, forcing out a smile.
"Good, because I'm starving." Meera announced. "Let's go get ourselves some shish kebabs from the Cornucopia." She then grabbed his hand and proceeded to drag him out of the building and out onto the sidewalk.
The Cornucopia had more people than usual, probably because it was a weekend. They went all meat since they were both meat-lovers. They got about three shish kebabs each, and a three-way sliders platter which featured: a Riverlander cheese-stuffed beef slider, a pepperoni pizza slider, and spicy crispy chicken slider, with fries on the side. As for their drinks, they settled for iced tea.
They sat across each other on a wooden picnic table as they munched on their food.
Bran took a bite from his shish kebabs and went hmm. "You're right." He said. "These are fucking delicious."
"I know, right?" Meera agreed.
"I think we should try every food off of every food stall the next time we come here." He suggested.
Meera raised an eyebrow at him. "So there's still a next time?" She asked.
He could feel himself turning red from embarrassment. "Um…I mean, if—if you want to. Then, maybe?" He stuttered, not knowing what else to say.
She giggled. "Are you kidding me? I'd love it." She said. "I can't bring my brother here because he's vegan, and my colleagues have boyfriends and are often on dates."
"Cool." Bran sighed in relief, but deep inside it was just like his heart was doing fifty cartwheels. He eventually went back to his shish kebabs, before Meera made a face at him. "What?" He asked.
Meera chuckled. "You have…" She pointed on her lower lip.
"What?" He asked again.
"You have barbeque sauce on your lower lip."
Bran used the back of his hand to wipe it off, but he only succeeded in smudging more sauce across his chin.
Meera laughed. "Hold on, I'll clean it up myself." She said as she rummaged through her bag and pulled out a pack of carry-on wet wipes. She took one and wiped the sauce off his chin.
Bran found himself staring at her as she did. And her green eyes sparkled against the festive lights around the food park.
"Meera?" A voice called not far from them.
They both turned to where the voice came from and saw a young woman with strawberry blond hair walking towards their table.
"Meera, hey!" The girl greeted.
Meera raised an eyebrow at the girl. "Gwyn?" She said. "What are you doing here?"
"Hi." The girl, Gwyn smiled. "I didn't realize you were on a date."
Meera turned to him and looked kind of embarrassed.
"Um, no, no," Bran spoke up. "This is not what it looks like."
"Yeah," Meera agreed, then cleared her throat. "Anyways, this is my colleague, Gwyn Whitehill."
Gwyn held out her hand for him to shake. But before Bran could say anything, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Why do you look so familiar?" She wondered.
"Alright," Meera spoke up. "So, he's gonna be featured on the paper by Monday." She said. "Under my article."
Gwyn gasped. "Okay, I know who you are now." She informed. "You're Brandon Stark. Hi, I'm Gwyn."
"Hello, Gwyn." He acknowledged as he shook her hand. "Bran is fine."
Gwyn leaned closer to Meera and whispered loudly. "He's so much nicer than Tyrek and so much more good-looking."
"Um, I can hear you." He pointed out.
Meera looked annoyed. "Bran, please ignore her."
"But I'm flattered though," Bran said. "Even though this boss of yours is supposedly a Lannister, right?"
Gwyn's mouth hung open, then turned to Meera for answers.
"It's a long story." Meera stated.
Gwyn raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, we have a lot to talk about on Monday then."
"Hey, babe." A dark-haired guy suddenly wrapped his arm around Gwyn's waist, then nodded at Meera's direction. "S'up, Meera."
"Oh, Bran, this is my boyfriend," Gwyn introduced the dark-haired guy. "Asher Forrester."
The guy, Asher frowned at him. "Wait, I know you." He said, nudging Gwyn. "Babe, it's the guy from the Science Expo. Brandon Stark, right?" He asked. "Water as Fuel. It's great stuff."
"Thanks," Bran said. "You guys can join us if you want." He offered.
"Oh, we'd love to," Gwyn answered. "But we're just grabbing food for the road."
"Where are you guys going?" Meera asked.
"Ironrath," Asher said. "My sister is getting married tomorrow."
Bran nearly spat out his iced tea. "What?" He asked like he'd misheard him. "Okay, this is crazy, but is your sister getting married to a Tallhart from Torrhen's Square?"
"Uh, yes," Asher confirmed, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him. "How did you know?"
"Well, my roommate is a Tallhart." He explained. "And he said he was going home because a cousin of his is getting married to a Forrester in Ironrath."
Asher nodded. "Oh, I think Benfred and Mira—" He gestured at Meera. "Not this Meera, I meant my sister, Mira. I think they mentioned about Benfred's cousin who's attending UWH. What was that guy's name again?" He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. "Oh, Beren? Beren Tallhart, right?"
"Yeah, that's him." Bran affirmed.
"So," Meera interjected. "You're really not joining us?" She asked.
"We would," Asher said. "But we need to head out."
And with that, Gwyn and Asher left.
"I am so sorry for everything Gwyn said." Meera apologized. "She just gets excited at times and talks a little bit too much."
"I get that." Bran said. "My sister, Sansa is also like that when she gets nervous or excited, which annoys the shit out of my other sister, Arya."
"Well, I'm glad to say that I don't have sisters." She said, then bit into her second slider and chewed. "There's probably too much drama."
Bran shook his head. "You have no idea." He snorted. "They don't get along, like, at all. Most of the time, it will take us boys to break them apart."
"So, on which sister's side are you on when it happens?"
"I don't usually take sides, because it's ridiculous." He pointed out. "Rationally, I'd for whoever is right. But if we're talking about the literal pulling apart thing, I'm usually restraining Arya because she's the most physically aggressive one among them."
"You know, I've always wanted to meet your sister Arya." She admitted. "I've seen her on campus when I was still attending UWH. She was always on those university activist movements, right? And she gives off this champion-of-the-masses vibe."
"Champion of the masses?" He repeated. "Wow, that sounds…poetic. That would be a perfect headline for a newspaper article."
Meera shrugged. "I'm not working in the Northern Herald for nothing, you know." She chuckled, then stood "I'm just gonna buy more fries so we'll have something to munch on during the slam poetry jam in Starkgrand."
. . .
After eating their dinner, Bran and Meera headed to the Starkgrand Coffee.
The Slam Poetry Jam was held twice a month in the Starkgrand Coffee in partnership with the University of White Harbor's Literary Society and the management of the café. A small stage was placed on corner of the café with lights, a microphone and words Poetry Slam! on a curtain behind it.
The place was starting to get packed with mostly art and literature geeks.
They scored a table on the second row from the stage. Meera readied their food as Bran brought them milkshakes for their drinks.
When it started, it became quiet as people listened attentively to someone on the microphone on the small stage.
"This is so cool," Meera whispered beside him. "I haven't been it an event like this since college."
People would take turns either reciting or reading from a piece of paper a slam poem of their own composition and are judged by members of the audience, selected randomly. Interactive games in between intermissions are held.
They also have this segment called Word-in-the-Bowl, where they would randomly pick an audience member and have them draw from a glass fishbowl small pieces of rolled of paper. Each paper contained a word/s for which the person who had drawn it and they must compose an impromptu slam poem about it. It mostly had the most ridiculous words like: Spray Tan, Aliens, or Martial Law.
Meera was one of the five selected. And the word she had drawn: Love.
"Whoa." The host said. "That is probably the most complex one. Can you handle that?" He asked.
Meera only shrugged. "Anything's possible." She assured.
Bran gave her an encouraging nod and a thumbs-up when she came up to the microphone. "You can do this." He said.
"Love." Meera started, then paused for a while before going on. "Love is like being robbed in an alley, unexpected and unassuming."
The crowd gave an ooh sound, and others leaned in closer for them to hear more.
"Love is like watching a game in the stands, but you get hit by a foul ball." Meera continued. "It had a slight chance of happening, but it did anyway."
At that, Bran went whoa! And that's only an impromptu slam poem. How much more intriguing will it be if she'd actually written a slam poem? He asked himself.
"Love is like not knowing how to swim, but someone throws you an inflatable buoy." She said. "A lifesaver, literally."
The entire crowd laughed.
"Love is like getting a massage." She prompted. "A bit painful, but it's good pain."
Bran smiled at the fact at how Meera got the audiences' attention because it was quiet.
"Love is like stubbing your toe in a corner of a table. It makes you scream from the pain, but afterwards, it gives you relief." Meera remarked. "Love is like the fire in the winter. It keeps you warm and grounded."
Bran found himself staring at her for no reason other than she's reciting a slam poem. Like, literally his chin on the top of his palm and he probably had a ridiculous smile on his face.
"Love is like falling off the stairs because of a godsdamned banana peel. Embarrassing at times, but you just have to get up and deal with it." She added. "Love is like chopping onions and accidentally cutting yourself. It makes you cry and get hurt, but you keep going."
At this point, the audience was starting to cheer.
"Most of all, love is like trekking up a mountain. It's not about how fast you get there or what prize is waiting at the top." Meera finished. "It's the journey getting there that makes it all worth it."
The crowd clapped their hands, while some even gave a standing ovation. The judges gave her an average score of nine overall and won the Word-in-the-Bowl segment.
Her prize for winning was the limited edition Citadel Maester, a range of luxury fountain pens produced by the Citadel Pen Company. Bran knew about it because his Dad, Ned used the same types of pens. Only twenty of that model were ever made, so owning one seemed like owning one of the rarest diamonds. And its casing was made of black velvet, leather, and glass, like it's some sort of jewelry.
"That was very well done!" Bran told Meera as soon as she got back to her seat. "I mean—just wow! You were amazing."
Meera smirked. "I'm not in the Northern Herald for nothing."
"You proved that twice today."
She shrugged. "Anyways," She slid the case of her Citadel Maester across the table to him. "Here you go."
"No, it's yours." Bran shook his head, sliding it back to her. "You earned that. And that's like, the limited edition one."
"I know," Meera said. "And it'll be pretty selfish of me if I owned two of the twenty."
Bran blinked. "What?"
"I already have one of those," Meera admitted. "I never actually bought one, it was also a prize I had won." She slid it across the table again. "Now, you take it. It's also my way of thanking you for bringing me here tonight."
"A pretty expensive thank you gift, don't you think?"
"Just take the damn pen." She insisted.
It took him a while to process it and he also knew Meera wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Alright," Bran said as he reluctantly took the pen from her. "Thank you, seriously."
"You're welcome." She smiled.
Holy shit! Bran thought. She's so fucking pretty. And super nice too.
They left early as the café proceeded to host stand-up comedy after the poetry slam. Now, stand-up comedy wasn't really his thing, but he decided to stay in case Meera wanted to. But it was like she read his mind because she offered to get out of the café.
It was early because it was only eleven at night. And yes, when you're in your twenties, eleven at night is still considered early.
"That was so freakin' amazing!" Meera squealed. "We definitely should do that again."
"Of course," Bran agreed. "Right after we try off every food in the Cornucopia."
They both laughed. And it was great to hear her laugh.
"So, um," He started to say. "What now?" He asked.
Meera shrugged. "I don't know." She admitted. "But after everything that happened in there, I still don't wanna go home. I feel like my night had just started."
"Okay, how about we watch movies?" Bran suggested.
She raised an eyebrow at him. "It's eleven at night," She reminded him. "I don't think there are still movie theaters that are open at this hour. Even at the weekends."
"I meant to watch movies at my place." He pointed out. "My roommate left for his cousin's wedding tomorrow. I was hoping we could do a little Webiflix and chill."
Meera then had the most terrified look on her face. "Excuse me?" She asked in disbelief.
"Webiflix and chill in my place." He repeated.
This time, she stepped away from him and had a disgusted expression on her face. "I just met you yesterday."
Then it hit him, the whole Webiflix and chill had another dirty meaning.
"Oh, no, no, no!" Bran said. "I don't mean that! I meant literally watching Webiflix. Not the other… dirty one." He could feel himself turning red from embarrassment. "Seven fucking hells! I'm just gonna walk you home." He suggested, not looking at her.
Instead of ignoring him and just storming away, Meera burst out laughing. "Oh my gods!" She snickered. "You should've seen your face."
"Wait, so you're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad?" Meera frowned at him. "I got what you meant." She assured. "I know you're not like those type of guys. And besides, I've never been to the Aquamarine."
"So it's on?"
"Yeah, totally." She confirmed. "I need to buy a bucket fries though, so we'll have something to eat."
"I have popcorn we can put in the microwave." Bran brought up. "But I guess fries are better. I'll take that."
They went back to the Cornucopia, brought a bucket of fries and two liters of fruit soda before heading to the Aquamarine.
Entering the lobby, they were greeted by the doorman, Wex Pyke, with a wide grin. Bran found it odd as he never usually does at that hour.
"Good evening, Mr. Stark." Wex addressed with a smirk on his face, then turned to Meera. "Good evening, miss."
Wex is a good friend of his foster brother, Theon Greyjoy ever since they were both taken into foster care from the Iron Islands. At age ten, Theon was taken in by the Stark family in Winterfell, and Wex was thirteen when he was fostered by the Manderlys there in White Harbor. Wex started working in the Aquamarine after he graduated, basically when Robb and Theon were only in their sophomore year in college.
Bran had Meera went ahead to the elevators and press the up button. Wex had then tapped his shoulder.
"Finally." Wex whispered.
At first, Bran didn't get what he meant. But then remembered that Wex had once asked him why he never brought girls over the way his brothers did.
As Bran joined Meera into the elevator, Wex waved at them. "Now you two have fun!" He said.
After the elevator doors closed, Bran turned to Meera.
"I am so sorry about that." He apologized. "Wex is not usually like that. All he does is greet me, that's it. I don't sit in the lobby and talking with him unlike my brothers do."
"Why is that?"
"Well, maybe because Wex and my foster brother, Theon go way back." He explained. "They were both taken by the Child Protection Services from the Iron Islands before being sent to foster care here in the North."
Once they reached their floor, Bran led her into the penthouse.
"Whoa," Meera said in awe as she made a quick twirl in the living room, which was, in many ways the center of the penthouse. "You've got a great place."
"Thanks," Bran said. "Robb said our Dad hired an interior designer to get this place together." He explained. "But when Arya came to live here, she did a lot of changes."
"What kind of changes?" She asked.
"Well, to name a few, there's the lighting, that table—" He pointed at the coffee table in the living room. "—the kitchen countertops, that brick wall—" He pointed to the wall that had the flight of stairs by it. "—and the water feature by the pool outside."
"There's a pool—right, of course, there's a pool." Meera reminded herself. "This is a penthouse." She turned to him. "Hey, I know renovation is great. But I'm just wondering how did your sister afford all that? I mean, there's no DIY installation of kitchen countertops, right?"
Bran made a face. "Well, my sister Arya is…sort of a daddy's girl." He explained. "She always knows what to say to our Dad for him to approve anything. Probably, like," He cleared his throat and imitated his sister's voice. "Hi daddy, I don't like the Marble countertops. We should change it to Granite because it's very strong and durable."
Meera chuckled. "Oh my gods."
"Whatever she did, it worked." He continued. "Because the following week, a few guys came over and installed the granite kitchen countertops."
Meera glanced at the kitchen, which can be seen from the angle she was standing on from the living room. "It looks great." She said. "And it goes well with the walls and the cabinets. Genius."
"She did have courses that involve Interior Design." He recalled. "So that's why. Even though our parents didn't know she took Architecture until she graduated. The only thing they knew about Arya that involves art was that she paints as her recreation."
"Yeah, you mentioned that." She raised an eyebrow. "Arya paints as well?"
Bran nodded in confirmation. "That one right there." He pointed on the large painting hanging on the brick wall with spotlights on it. "That's one of her many paintings. She has five here and a dozen at home in Winterfell."
Meera walked over to the painting on the brick wall and observed it. Bran watched her as she did and wondered if it would be great to take her to a museum next time.
Arya's painting was an impressionist acrylic on canvas of the city skyline of White Harbor at night. Summer Night Skyline, Arya had named it, and it even had a small placard like the one in museums. He remembered how Arya spent two weeks outside the balcony by the pool everynight, carrying her easel and canvas to paint the view. She had even drawn X marks on the tiles so that she'd remember where to place the easel.
Bran went to stand beside her. He was tempted to put his arm around her but restrained himself. If he did that, Meera would probably shake his arm off of her and hit him. And he didn't want that.
"It's beautiful." She spoke up. "Now, I'd really want to meet your sister."
"I'll introduce her to you someday." He promised. "And I think the Picasso-champion-of-the-masses will also be thrilled to meet you."
Meera smiled, turning to him. "I see what you did there." She said. "That's a nice touch." She cleared her throat. "But right now, as much as I admire your place and your sister's renovation ideas, I think we should start to watch a movie."
"Right," He said, gesturing for her to follow him to the largest couch, which was facing the large flatscreen with installed digital surround sound system.
It was Robb's idea. He was the techie one in the penthouse then. And if Arya was redesigning things in the penthouse, Robb was responsible with all the stuff that involved technology. So, of course, he started with the digital surround sound to make them feel like they were watching a movie in a theater. There was the remote-controlled fireplace, the wifi router and he installed a One-Tap System wherein everything will be controlled in their phone tablets, like the temperature in each of the rooms or the volume of the music played.
Bran also remembered his sisters arguing over which music playlist they would play while they do chores on the weekends. It was either Sansa's hopeless romantic playlist or Arya's feel-good motivational playlist and always insisted that he was the deciding vote, which he found annoying.
Meera placed the fries on the coffee table as they both sat on the couch. Bran then took the remote and started browsing for movies to watch.
"So what movie are we watching?" He asked.
"I don't know." She shrugged. "You asked me to watch movies. I'm assuming you'd decide that."
"Okay, let's go to the genres." Bran brought up. "Take your pick: horror, romantic, action/adventure."
"Oh, definitely action/adventure." Meera answered. "I hate the jumpscares in horror films and romantic flicks are often so cheesy."
"Suspense or Science-Fiction?"
"Science Fiction all the way."
"Have you seen Star Wars?"
"No," Meera admitted. "But it's the one with the laser swords—"
"Lightsabers." He corrected.
"Right," She nodded. "And the one with the Luke, I am your father—NO! memes, right?" She asked.
He frowned at her. "Oh, so you just happened to guess the biggest cinematic reveal in the franchise?"
"My brother is a fan of Star Wars."
"But you've never seen it." He repeated. "Why?"
"Well, because I've had the timeline confused and I just lost interest in actually watching it no matter how Jojen insisted."
"Now that you've said it, we're watching it." Bran said as he played Star Wars Episode 1 on the flatscreen. "You will love this."
"And what makes you so sure I'm gonna love it?"
"You're a journalist." He pointed out. "Journalists love great stories. This is a great story." He insisted. "And I also think your brother will thank me for this."
During the first few minutes, Meera looked bored as she held the bucket of fries on her lap. But then she started asking questions like, who's this and who's that. And of course, being the big Star Wars geek that he is, he answered them thoroughly.
Most people find it annoying asking lots of question during the movie, but Bran didn't mind. He liked being asked the questions, so he basically explained to her the whole hierarchy of the Jedi Order. And he also enjoyed watching Meera getting into the movie.
Once they got to the climax, she started asking questions that involved spoilers.
"Ooh, war council." She noted. "They're obviously gonna win, but of course there will be one of those moments when the enemy thinks they've won."
"There's always that moment in movies." He agreed.
They continued watching, as they ate away the fries and the drank the fruit sodas.
"A double-lightsaber!" Meera gasped. "Now, that's awesome!" She turned to him. "What happens to them after their lightsaber battle?" She asked.
"You're just gonna have to watch the duel to find out."
Meera knitted her eyebrows. "It's not a duel because there are three of them." She corrected. "But seriously, what happens then? I don't care about spoilers. Just tell me."
Bran smiled at the fact that Meera's literally fangirling about the movie.
"The master's gonna die." He blurted.
"WHAT?" Meera exclaimed. "What do you mean he's gonna die?" She repeated like she'd misheard him. "He can't die. He's like, the main character. You don't kill off the main character."
"But they did." He said, pointing back at the screen just in time when Darth Maul stabs Qui-Gon Jinn in his chest.
"What the fuck?" She shrieked. "They did kill him. But why?" She asked.
"Character development."
"Oh, okay." Meera nodded in agreement. "So his padawan, Obi-Wan probably becomes a master and that blond kid, Anakin becomes his padawan, right?"
Bran shrugged. "Yeah, basically."
"A predictable ending." She pointed out. "But that kid did have potential though. The force is strong in him." She quoted.
He made a face at her again. "Right."
"Why are you giving me that look?" She asked. "Please don't tell me he turns evil."
Once the movie ended, the credits started rolling on the screen.
"You know what," Bran spoke up. "After that, I'm not gonna give you any more spoilers." He declared.
"Fine," She yawned. "Let's watch the second movie then."
Bran checked the digital clock in the living room. 01:46, it read. "Alright," He agreed. "I need to have a potty break first." He said, before heading to the bathroom.
When he returned, he found Meera had fallen asleep on the couch. She had her head on the armrest and she was clutching a throw pillow in her arms and between her knees. She was clearly sleeping soundly and he decided not to disturb and wake her up so Bran took a blanket from the linen closet and wrapped it over Meera.
Watching her made him smile. He won't deny that he wasn't tempted to kiss her. But it would be disrespectful. And if he did kiss her while she was sleeping it would come out as assault and she might never speak to him again.
Bran decided to just sleep on one of the armchair recliners because he wanted to be there when Meera wakes up. He changed into his pj's and took another blanket from the linen closet before preparing his place.
He had then played a relaxing piano sleep music on the One-Tap System, the same way he does when he's having trouble sleeping, before turning all the lights off and only the fireplace adjacent to the couch Meera was sleeping in, was the source of light and warmth.
. . .
Bran woke up the later that day to find Meera still sleeping. He checked the digital clock. 07:02, it displayed.
He decided to cook breakfast, hoping Meera would wake up to its aroma from the kitchen.
Sure enough, a little later as he placed the ingredients in the cooking pan and heated water for coffee in an electric kettle, Meera awoke and sat up from the couch.
"Oh, hey!" Bran called. "Good morning. Breakfast will be ready in a minute." He assured.
Meera rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "It's morning and I'm still here." She sounded worried. "Why didn't you wake me up?" She asked.
"Well, you look cozy clutching the pillows, so I didn't." Bran explained. "But don't worry, I promise I'll be driving you home," He promised. "Right after you have breakfast with me."
He placed the freshly-cooked meals on the plates on the kitchen counter as Meera walked towards the kitchen.
"What's for breakfast?" She asked as she sat on one of the barstools by the island counter.
Bran placed her meal before her. "Bacon and Cheese Omelette."
"That looks and smells delicious," Meera's eyes widened in surprise. "What cheese did you put in?" She asked.
"Cheddar." He replied as he poured hot water from the electric kettle into mugs for himself and Meera with peppermint tea bags. "And here's your tea."
"Wow, thank you." Meera said gratefully. "How did you know I drink tea in the morning rather than coffee?" She asked.
"I don't, actually." Bran said. "I prefer tea in the morning rather than coffee because it helps me relax. And I didn't know you do too."
"Oh, um, yeah, same reason." She said. "And it helps detoxify your body."
"Well, let's dig in." He said as he sat down beside her with his meal and tea.
As they ate their breakfast, he noticed Meera smiling at him.
"What is it?" Bran asked.
"Nothing," She shrugged, then went back to her meal. "It's just, I've never had a guy cook me breakfast before, besides my Dad."
"Really?" He wondered. "What about your brother?"
"Jojen?" She snorted. "That guy relies on me for home-cooked vegan-option meals. So when we're not in Greywater or I'm not there, he orders himself a vegan pizza or vegan burgers."
"With tofu as the meat substitute?"
"Tempeh." She blurted out. "He prefers tempeh than tofu because it's healthier."
Bran shook his head. "You know, I feel sorry for vegans." He said. "They're missing a lot of great food."
"Tell me about it." She agreed.
Just as they were finishing up, they heard the front door open.
"Bran!" A voice called from the foyer, then the sound of the doors being closed.
"Bran!" The voice called again followed by steps that belonged to someone in high heels, when he recognized who it belonged to, his eyes widened.
Oh, gods, no! He mentally screamed. How in seven hells is she here?
"Bran, get your fucking arse out of bed now!" The voice was yelling now. Yep, definitely her. He thought.
Bran stood and accidentally dropped his spoon on the floor, which made the footsteps head towards the kitchen.
He tossed it in the dishwasher in time to see his sister Arya walking towards the kitchen.
"Bran—" Arya started to say, but then her eyes widened and she smiled suspiciously. "Oh, what do we have here?"
He had no idea what his sister was doing there at that moment, but it must be something important because she won't just drive to White Harbor on a Sunday morning for nothing.
And for some reason, Arya was all dressed up, formally. Well, sort of. She was wearing a classy silver one-shoulder strap jumpsuit and paired it black sandals with high heels. And she had a wooden coat hanger on one hand covered in black garment cover.
"Arya?" Bran blinked. "What are you doing here?" He demanded. "And how did you even got in?"
His sister looked at him like he's an idiot. "In case, you forgot, I used to live here." Arya reminded him. "So, of course, I still have the keys. Anyways, everyone tried to call you but you're out of reach." She explained. "Both the landline and your cellphone. We couldn't even reach the voice mail. Mom and Dad called the phone company and they said that your landline subscription is still active, but is only plugged out."
Bran remembered that the phone landline was on the console table. The same table Beren had knocked over when he came home drunk the day before.
He cursed. "I forgot to check about that." He said. "Beren came home drunk the other night and knocked everything off the console table. So I think it's sort of, my fault."
Arya raised an eyebrow at him. "And your cellphone?"
He tapped his pockets, but nothing. He didn't remember where he'd left it, so he shrugged. "The battery's probably dead. I forgot to charge it last night." He was about to go find when Arya raised her hand and stopped him.
"Wait, aren't you gonna introduce me to your girlfriend?" She asked with a teasing smirk.
Bran immediately felt horrible as he almost forgot Meera was there.
"No!" He and Meera said at the same time.
He could feel himself turning red, yet again.
"I'm not his girlfriend." Meera revealed.
"No, she's not my girlfriend." Bran agreed. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "Arya, this is Meera Reed," He turned back to Arya. "Meera, this is my sister Arya."
Arya smiled and held out her hand for a shake. "Oh, hi."
Meera shook Arya's hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." She said. "And I love your paintings."
His sister had a confused look on her face. "Um, thanks."
Arya narrowed her eyes on Meera. "Hold on, your name sounds familiar." She noticed. "I think I read it in a newspaper."
Bran cleared his throat. "She's a journalist on the Northern Herald." He informed.
"Oh, wow!" His sister's mouth hung open in surprise. "I knew it."
"Bran's gonna be featured in tomorrow's issue," Meera announced. "For winning in the Science Expo. And that article's written by yours truly."
Arya nodded. "Nice." She acknowledged. "Definitely grabbing an issue tomorrow."
"Anyways, Arya," Bran interjected. "You never answered my question. What are you doing here?" He asked again. "And why are you dressed like that? Are you going to a party this early?"
"No, idiot," Arya snapped back. "We're going to a wedding."
"We?"
"Yes, we." She repeated. "Didn't Beren tell you anything about his cousin's wedding? Apparently, we're invited and Mom and Dad insisted that we should all go, including Theon."
"Why do I need to be there?" He asked.
"I don't know," Arya said irritably. "You asked them that question. Even I don't know why I need to be there." She held out the coat hanger with the garment cover. "Oh, and I brought your tux, just like Mom said."
Bran sighed. "What time are they going to expect us?"
"Dad said we should be in Ironrath by lunchtime," Arya recalled. "And it's a two-hour drive from here."
"Uh, I should probably go," Meera spoke up. "You guys need to prepare."
Bran nodded. "Okay, I'll just grab my keys and I'll drive you home."
"No, no, I'll just walk home." She assured.
"No," He disagreed. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of you walking home alone."
"It's not the first time I've done it, Bran." Meera pointed out. "I'll be alright. And you need to prepare to get to Ironrath."
"Oh, it's fine." Arya spoke up. "We'll leave at like, a quarter to ten. So, technically, Bran has an hour to get ready."
Bran glanced at his sister only to see her rummaging through the fridge, probably finding something to eat or drink.
Bran didn't like arguing. "You know what?" He said. "How about I just get you a cab?"
"No, dum-dum!" Arya interrupted, slamming the fridge close. "Drive her home." She insisted.
He glared at his sister. "Arya, please." He absolutely hated it when people interfered in his business.
Arya raised her hands in surrender. "Right, sorry." She said, then proceeded to get a grilling pan from base cabinets.
"Fine, I'll take a cab." Meera finally said. "I'll text you when I'm already in my flat."
He smiled. "Great."
"Where the fuck is the cheese?" Arya suddenly complained.
Bran huffed. "Arya, it's on the island counter."
"Oh," Arya snatched the cheese and the chopping board. "I'll see you around, Meera." She said as he and Bran left.
They rode the elevator down to the lobby. Luckily for them, he didn't spot Wex anywhere, who had probably had gone for a potty break or something, because if Wex was there, he'd probably tease the shit out of them.
Meera started to head to the main doors, but Bran took her hand and pulled her towards the other set of doors that led to the flat complex's parking space.
"But I thought I was going to take a cab," Meera brought up. "Where are we going?" She asked.
"You'll see." Bran said, as he gently dragged her. What Meera didn't know, was Bran was able to snatch his car keys right before they left the penthouse.
Meera stopped at her tracks as they got out of the doors when she saw dozens of cars parked. "Why are we here?" She demanded.
"Because I'm driving you home." He said, winking at her. "I promised you, didn't I? And I never break a promise. Ever."
She gave him a genuine smile, then snorted. "Okay, you had me at promise." She said. "Looks like I can never argue with that."
Bran motioned his head at the direction of his car. "Come on, then."
The Aquamarine had the perpendicular type parking with the slots wider than the standard measurements. And since the Aquamarine is the most high-end flat complex, it means they house the few of the richest people not originating from White Harbor.
Few, because the richest family in the city were the Manderlys and they don't live in flats as they live in mansions on the hilltops. And in their case, their parents would probably go far as buying a house for them to stay while they attend UWH, but they knew that they were only there temporarily. So instead, they brought a penthouse unit because it's cheaper than buying a house and lot.
They walked past around nine luxury cars to get to his. And by luxury cars, like literally Bentleys, Lamborghinis and Ferraris. Yes, the people staying there were that rich. And Arya's white Porsche was parked next to his car, right on Beren's spot.
Meera gasped when she saw his car. "Whoa."
"What?" He asked.
"You drive a BMW?" She said in awe. "Oh my gods."
Bran shrugged. "It was a gift from my parents on my 18th birthday." He said. "I mean, it's not much—"
"It's not much?" She exclaimed. "It's a fucking BMW."
"Just get in, please." He said as he slid into the driver's seat.
Meera sat on the shotgun and was too quiet than usual.
Bran started the engines and then drove out the building. "Um, are you surprised by any of this?"
"Overwhelmed." She admitted. "But what I'm more surprised is that you're keeping a low profile about it. You cook your own meals and you walk to class."
"That way I can save gas money." He explained. "And it's great if you cook your own food rather than having some delivered."
"True," Meera agreed. "Who knew there are some rich people who are thrifty?"
"I'm not rich," He corrected. "It's my parents who are rich."
"That's one of the things only rich people would say."
"I just…don't want to get an impression of like, oh, he can get anything he wants, he's rich. I think it destroys your character as a person. And I don't want that." He admitted, and he had never told anyone about that before. Most people he met him were like that, and he hated it.
He just expected Meera to just burst out laughing, but to his surprise, she sympathized with his small predicament.
"Nah, you're more like that kid during recess that just reads a book in the corner rather than plays in the playground." She assured. "That is the vibe I got from you ever since we first met. And I'm not saying that to make you feel better, I'm saying that because it's the truth."
"That's good news." Bran slowly smiled as he pulled over right in front of the Greenwood Flats. "Here we are."
"Thank you for everything," She said. "I mean everything, the accommodation, the free breakfast, and the free ride. And you still owe me a Star Wars marathon."
He shrugged."Don't mention it." He chuckled. "As for the marathon, it's so on. So, same time on Friday?"
"I get off from work at five."
"Oh, I'll pick you up, then." Bran offered. "And then we'll walk." He quickly added.
"Yes," Meera agreed. "Because it's good exercise, saves energy and lessens the carbon footprint."
"Of course," He said. "And hopefully, I'll be able to meet your boss and see how much of an egoistic person he is."
Meera just stared at him. "You do not want to meet him, honestly." She promised. "And how did you know that he's sort of an egoistic person?" She asked.
"My sister Sansa once dated Joffrey Baratheon." He blurted.
Her eyes widened. "The president's son?"
"Yeah, him." He confirmed. "And he's…kind of a snob. I don't like him at all. His pride and ego are just…way up there, probably higher than the summits of the mountains in the Vale if you ask me. And his last name isn't even Lannister. My Mom says it's a family trait that they have, besides their golden blond hair."
"Wow, I think you just described him, in a way." Meera chuckled, then opened the shotgun car door. "Anyways, thanks again."
Suddenly, she leaned in closer to him and gave him a quick peck on his cheek.
They both locked eyes in surprise, like they have no idea what in seven hells had just happened before Meera bolted out of the car and close the car door.
Bran himself took a moment before shaking himself back to reality. Did she just kiss me on the cheek? He mentally asked himself. He turned outside to see Meera by the main doors of the Greenwood Flats with a smile on her face and she was waving her hand at him.
He waved back at her before driving back to his place. In his mind, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. Yes! And he definitely went back to the penthouse with a smile on his face and didn't even care when Wex was teasing him.
Bran was still smiling when he entered the penthouse.
"That's a smile I've never seen before." Arya suddenly spoke up.
Bran jumped back in surprise. He had totally forgotten his sister Arya was in the penthouse. "What the fuck?" He exclaimed.
Arya had an apron over her silver jumpsuit and she was putting an olive garnish on top of a beef slider she had just cooked. "Slider?" She offered the plate she had just finished.
"You're cooking?" He exclaimed in disbelief.
"I'm hungry. You can't blame me." She said handing him the plate.
He gave her a skeptical look, then took the plate and examined it.
His sister rolled her eyes. "Why are you looking at the slider like I put poison in it?" She demanded.
"Where's the cheese?" He asked suspiciously.
Arya sighed in annoyance. "I stuffed the beef patty with the cheese before grilling it." She explained before biting into another slider. "And why the fuck are you even asking so many questions about it? Just eat!" She urged.
Bran bit into the same slider he examined. "Hmm, it's actually good."
"Of course, it is," Arya said confidently as she finished off the last of her slider. "But that's enough about my awesome food." She said. "You know, when Wex told me you brought a girl with you last night, I thought he was messing with me."
"I didn't sleep with her." He insisted. "If that's what you're gonna ask about. We only watched a movie."
"When did you first meet?"
Immediately, Bran could feel himself going flustered. Arya was his closest sister, and if he was going to open up to anyone in their family, it would be to her.
He explained that they met first when she interviewed him for the feature article in the Northern Herald, which was literally two days ago. It made Arya knit her eyebrows, but then he continued on with him and Meera going for coffee and then to the Cornucopia Food Park before walking her home. The following day, they went to the Slam Poetry Jam in Starkgrand Coffee before heading to his place for a movie, until Meera fell asleep on the couch and he didn't dare wake her up. And he surprised her with breakfast before Arya arrived.
"You like this girl," Arya concluded. "And don't bother trying to deny it, it's pretty obvious from the way you talk about her."
If it was possible, he could feel himself turning redder. "Don't tell anyone." He said as he finished his slider.
"I don't have to, they'll figure it out." Arya said, matter of factly. "And I think Wex already gave Theon a heads up about that."
He blinked. "What?"
"Don't stress about it." She said. "Just go hit the showers and put on the tux Mom got for you. And we'll continue talking about Meera in the road to Ironrath."
Just as his sister said it, Bran already knew his three elder brothers would interrogate him about it.