Autumn Drabble for @jonsadungeonsanddrabbles Prompt: Dark Nights
Read on AO3 here.
i. break my heart in the blink of an eye
“I’m not some damsel in distress,” she hisses, ushering her brother and his best friend upstairs. “I don’t need you to defend my honor.”
She can feel the eyes of the party guests on her back and can hear the rumble of their collective whispers beneath the low thrum of the music. She catches a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror on the landing. Ponytail askew. Cheeks flushed. Eyes red-rimmed.
This is definitely not how she expected to spend her fall break.
“Sansa-” Robb starts, his tone contentious, as they reach the top of the stairs. His bottom lip is split and a bruise is already blooming on his jaw. She grimaces and gently pushes him towards the bedroom at the end of the hall.
“Jeyne, will you please help him get cleaned up?” She’s so mad at him she can barely see straight. Robb clenches his jaw but does not respond. Her best friend nods and grabs her brother’s elbow.
“C’mon,” Jeyne whispers, tugging on his arm. “I’ll get you some ice.”
She watches the two of them walk away, her hands shaking slightly. She hears Jon shifting from one foot to the other beside her. She spares him a glance. His uninjured hand is shoved in the pocket of his jean jacket, his shoulders tense and expression contrite. Someone laughs downstairs and the music gets louder. She sighs and opens the bathroom door, pulling him inside.
She gestures towards the toilet. “Sit.”
She hears the clack of the lid closing as she crouches down to look for the first-aid kit her parents bought Robb when he moved off campus with Theon. She glances at Jon’s hand and frowns.
“Are you okay?” He asks, leaning forward slightly to catch her eye. His voice is low and husky, his breath whiskey-warmed. The concern she finds in his grey eyes causes her breath to catch.
“Fine,” she mutters, her cheeks heating under his intense gaze. “Mortified, but fine.”
She and Margaery had been chatting quietly in a corner of the living room, discussing her plans for college next year, when Jeyne found her.
“It’s Robb,” Jeyne had said, grabbing her hand. She had swiftly followed her outside, chest tight as she feared the worst.
If Theon dared him to do something stupid again, I’ll kill him.
She had frantically shouldered her way through the large group gathered around the bonfire, her breath a mist in the chill, autumn air.
“Robb,” she had gasped as she reached the center of the crowd, her eyes searching for his familiar form. She stopped short when she saw Joffrey being helped up from the ground by a friend, mud and grass staining the back of his letterman jacket.
What is he doing here? She had thought, confused and panicked, as the fire popped and orange sparks whistled towards the navy sky. We broke up over a week ago. No one in the crowd had noticed her presence yet, intent as they were on witnessing a fight.
“Let me go!” Robb had shouted, pulling her from her thoughts. He was standing across from Joffrey, his face red with fury, struggling against Jon’s grip. She heard Jon grunt as he wrapped his arms tighter around Robb’s stocky shoulders, his feet slipping slightly on the damp grass.
“Jon,” she had yelled, pushing forward. “What’s going-”
“Let’s get out of here,” Joffrey had snarled upon spotting her, his emerald eyes flashing in the firelight. “The silly little slut’s not worth it.”
She had recoiled as if slapped, inhaling sharply. “What-”
Jon had been on top of him in an instant, his fist connecting with Joffrey’s jaw.
She swallows hard, remembering how Jon’s eyes - dark and unfocused - had met hers when she called out to him again; how warm his cheeks had felt in her hands as she knelt on the cold ground, pleading with him to get Robb and go inside; and how the knot in her chest had untangled when she told Joffrey to leave and never come back.
“I’m sorry, Sansa,” Jon says, his brow furrowed and voice pained. “I shouldn’t have-”
“You don’t need to apologize” she interrupts, breathless and a little dizzy. She stands and sets the first-aid kit on the sink. “Robb is an idiot and Joffrey is-”
“An asshole.” His hands unconsciously curl into fists and he winces. She rolls her eyes and tries not to smile, turning on the faucet.
“Yes, that’s one word for him.” She carefully wrings the excess water out of the rag and kneels, taking Jon’s injured hand in hers. They’re both quiet as she gently cleans the broken skin around his knuckles. His calloused fingers tickle the inside of her wrist and she shivers.
(She can count on two hands the number of times she’s been alone with Jon since Robb introduced him to the family as his best friend nearly ten years ago. Yet, Jon’s been a steady, (somewhat) sullen presence in the periphery of her life ever since. They’re not unfriendly; they’re just not friends.
So why did he do what he did for her tonight?)
“You’ll need to ice this,” she finally says, breaking the silence. “Robb is going to have to explain his split lip to our parents. You don’t want them interrogating you too during family dinner.”
He gifts her a lop-sided smile. “I definitely don’t want to get banned from dinner. It’s the main reason I’ve put up with Robb all these years.”
She snorts, sitting back on her heels to admire her handiwork. “I promise I won’t tell.”
“Sansa” - Jon scratches his jaw with a frown - “I’m sorry if what I did hurt you.”
She glances up, surprised.
“I mean, I’ve known you since you were like eight,” he continues hurriedly, “and I-”
She stands, waving her hands dismissively. She knows what he’s going to say - what they all say.
Just a porcelain doll in need of protecting, she thinks bitterly.
“Jon, you don’t-”
“Sansa” - he grabs her hand and squeezes - “I don’t think you need rescuing.”
“What?” Her hand is limp in his firm grasp.
“You’re the strongest person I know and I’m sorry if I made you feel less than that.” His tone is insistent, his eyes soft and beseeching.
She jumps as someone knocks loudly on the bathroom door and Jon reluctantly releases her hand.
“Be right out,” she croaks, closing the first-aid kit with a snap. She watches Jon run his fingers through his dark curls, his cheeks tinged pink.
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and clears her throat. “I’ll get you some ice, okay?”
