Work Text:
Monday, January 12th, 2015
For a city located so far south, Arya was constantly surprised at how chilly Storms End could get. It was nowhere near as cold as it was back in Winterfell when she had flown home for Winter Solstice break, but she immediately regretted leaving her dorm wearing only a flannel button down shirt over grey leggings and a jean jacket, instead of grabbing her pea coat. She blamed the black swirling ocean she could see from her window and the currents that brought cold winds down from the north. Her plane had just landed two days ago and she'd barely had enough time to put her clean clothes into drawers and catch up with her roommate when she realized that, unlike fall semester, there was no Welcome Week, and classes were going to start tomorrow.
She took a screenshot on her phone of her class schedule, yelled to Mya that she'd be back in a bit, and headed out on the walk to the campus bookstore, about six or so blocks from their dorm.
XxXxX
"Three... three hundred and sixteen dollars... for that? It's highway robbery, that's what it is! Gods, how do you sleep at night charging that much money?"
She'd found the book easy enough and assumed based on its heft it'd be a bit expensive, but when she saw the price sticker on the back cover she found the nearest worker to question about pricing.
"Hey, man, I don't put the prices on 'em," the store clerk said. He was obviously a student, as most 'grown ups' don't wear Bob Marley shirts under their work aprons, and he certainly smelled like he was having a much better day than Arya was. "You wanna get pissed at someone, get pissed at whoever teaches that class. They're the one that put that book on the list."
"Whatever. Sell that thing to some other sucker, I'll get it online." She pushed the book into his hands, oddly pleased at the strained face he made when he felt how much it weighed.
"No, you won't."
"What?"
"It's not a text book," he explained, turning it over in his hands and inspecting it. "It's a course pack, handmade by whoever Professor Tyrion Lannister is. No way that'll be online."
"I'll make do," Arya said. She walked off towards the checkout counter, angrily biting her lower lip to get herself to not make any more comments. She paid for the rest of what she was picking up for classes - some notebooks, new highlighters, sketching pencils for her studio class - and used all her willpower to be nice to the cashier.
As she left there was another student coming into the book store, over a foot taller than her, headphones in and paying zero attention to the world around him. Despite her best efforts, he collided into her, practically knocking her off her feet while he seems not to be phased at all. She heard something along the lines of, 'gods, sorry,' but ignored him.
She took a quick look at him, giving him her best 'bitch face', as Mya called it, only noticing his navy pea coat, tight jeans rolled up showing off brown leather boots, and his stupid hipster haircut that looked like he'd spent way too much time in front of the mirror this morning.
"Seven hells, watch where you're going...," she muttered under her breath after regaining her footing and continuing on her way. “Just because you're the size of a big stupid bull doesn't mean you can just ram into people..."
Tuesday, January 13th, 2015
Arya walked into class the next day feeling unsure about not buying the course pack. Every class she'd had last semester either had normal books, or like most of her art classes, nothing aside from the supplies she would use, most of which she was able to pick up at the store in the art building. She picked a seat in the back and decided to make herself at least seem as ready as possible, setting out a spiral notebook, pen, and her travel mug of coffee on the desk. She watched as the classroom gradually filled up, and each student she noticed had that godsdamn course pack set on their desk. Just before the clock ticked over to 9am, the last straggler walked in, hastily taking the last open desk, front and center. She knew her eyes widened when she instantly recognized the navy peat coat and haircut of the man who ran into her at the bookstore yesterday. Arya watched him ready his desk, hanging his coat over the back of the chair, taking off RayBan Clubmaster sunglasses and setting them at the top of the desk, then rolling up the sleeves on his chambray button down. He looked like he should spend his time brewing small-batch whiskey in vintage jugs, something much more refined than sitting in a university classroom. She was rolling her eyes and just about to make some sort of loud sighing noise, when the door opened and shut and their professor walked in.
"Good morning. Everyone here is signed up for ART232, correct? Art History of Essos and Westeros during Aegon's Conquest? If you're not, now's the time to leave." He paused a second and panned across the room. "No Lost Boys? Well, that's certainly a first. If you haven't had the pleasure of one of my classes before, I'm Tyrion Lannister. I see a couple familiar faces, but mostly all new. Anyways..."
He gave a quick introduction of himself, then grabbed a stack of papers from his bag and passed them out, asking the first person in each row to take one and pass them back.
"You'll note that under the class materials section is only the course pack, which I see many of you have already purchased, as well as a notepad and pencils which you may want for some sketching. If you've not purchased the course pack, you'll need to do so soon, as you'll have some reading to do for Thursday's class, which we'll talk more about later. And if, as a last resort, and I mean a very last resort, you do not feel the need to purchase such a cumbersome text, I was gracious enough to make sure the library has a copy..."
He went on to explain grading and attendance, among other usual first day of class items, made sure everyone was aware that their final class project would be a group research paper and presentation, and ended the class with a small question and answer oral quiz about the history of Aegon's Conquest, stating, "I know you all learned this in middle school, let's see how much has actually stayed in your heads."
All Arya could think about was how fast she was going to have to run to get to the library to check that course pack out, followed by how that annoying stupid bull in the front row was dominating all the history-related questions, and getting them correct, only further adding to her annoyance.
As soon as class let out, Arya grabbed all of her things, struggling to put her coat on and still keep a hold of her backpack, and then sprinted across campus to the library, smiling to herself that it wasn’t icy like she knew it was back in Winterfell. She went straight for the online card catalog kiosk, quickly typing in the name of the course pack and seeing that, thank the gods, there was actually one lonely copy, hopefully still collecting dust up on the fourth floor stacks. She followed the signs on the fourth floor that pointed her in the direction of the row of shelves where the card catalog said the course pack would be, and jumped back, startled when she rounded the corner and there was somebody already in that row. Almost immediately, she recognized him as the guy who ran into her and from her class. How in the Seven Hells did he get here before me? I ran as fast as I could to get here... oh shit, that's not what I think it is in his hands, is it?
"Hey, that's the book I need," Arya said, nodding towards what was already in his possession.
"Well, I'm here first and I'm planning on checking it out."
"You can't do that! That's the only copy of it in the library."
"Maybe you should've just bought the course pack,” he replied, leaning against the bookshelf where the course pack had been.
"That's a bit hypocritical of you, isn't it? You didn't buy it either. If you did you wouldn't need to check it out from the library." She crossed her arms across her chest, thinking she'd thoroughly shut him up with that one, but she was wrong.
"Okay then, maybe you should've gotten here faster." He shrugged nonchalantly, not caring at all about the predicament he was putting her in, and it only served to make her more annoyed.
"Gotten here faster?! I'll have you know that I ran the entire way here from Durrandon Hall, so I'm more confused about how you got here faster than me."
"Oh, well, that's simple. I've got a moped." He flashed her a smug smile and tucked the course pack under his arm. “Besides, I doubt those short little legs could run very fast anyways.”
"That's cheating!" Arya yelled, suddenly more angry than annoyed, visions in her head of him with his stupid outfit, zipping around campus on some retro Vespa. “And, asshole, I’ll have you know that these short little legs can run plenty fast when they need to!” Neither had noticed how loud they were yelling until a librarian walked around the corner to interrupt.
"Excuse me, I know this is the fourth floor, but you'll either need to pipe down or take your argument elsewhere," she scolded.
"...sorry," they both muttered under their breath, and then waited for the old librarian to leave.
He began to walk towards the elevator as soon as the librarian was out of sight and Arya tried to keep up with him. Damn him and his stupid long legs, she couldn’t help but think. She stuck her hand in the way of the elevator sensor and made sure the door stayed open, joining him for a silent, anger-filled ride down to the main floor. She followed right beside him all the way to the front check-out counter. I’ll show him how fast these legs can move.
"All set?" the girl behind the counter said, her eyes getting a little wide at the loud thud the course pack made when Gendry set it down.
"Yes, thank you. It'll be just this one book." They watched as she took the book, ran it under the scanner once, twice, then sighed and set it down before quickly typing the code off from the back cover into the computer.
"Bad news. I'm sorry, but you can't check this book out of the library."
"Hah!" Arya laughed, thinking that she'd won. "Does he have too many late fees? Can I have it then?"
"No, I'm afraid you don't understand. This course pack is not allowed to leave the library. Author's orders, says right here on screen." She turned the monitor around and they both took a second to read it. "If you both really need this book, it sounds like you'll have to become fast friends."
Monday, January 19th, 2015
"Dude, could your headphones get any louder?" Arya asked.
It was less than a week after their first encounter trying to check out the course pack, and they both had realized that they'd need to start sharing the packet, or else neither of them would pass the class. Tuesday afternoon found them sitting across from each other at a table in one of the private group study rooms dotted throughout the library, taking turns pushing the gigantic course pack back and forth across the table. She’d told her dad about what had happened the other day on their weekly phone call. Well, most of what happened. If he’d known I was just too cheap to buy it and then transfer me the money. Instead, she’d just said that she’d gotten stuck being partners for the semester with someone she didn’t like, and for that she received the Ned Stark fatherly advice of the week: “Arry, you’ll just have to try and get along with this fellow. Give it the old college try.” Whatever that meant.
"Do you have a problem?" Gendry countered. He’d been listening to music on his phone, the same as Arya had been, and had just then taken his earbuds out to grab a pen that’d fallen on the ground.
"Well, yes, first, I'm surprised you're not deaf. I can literally hear your crap music through my own headphones."
"My music is crap? You're the one that looks like they've arrived twenty years late to a Pearl Jam concert. The way I see it, if you can hear my music, I'm doing you a favor."
She stood up at that remark, slammed both hands on the table, and leaned over as far as she could to his side. "Eddie Vedder could beat the shit outta that Mumford and Sons, Wilco, Conor Oberst whiny baby music you're listening --"
At that moment, as soon as Gendry began to push himself out of his chair to make himself bigger and counter whatever Arya was going to say, the door to their study room swung open, revealing a group of four or five guys, all wearing some version of their engineering frat t-shirt.
"Are you two gonna be done with this room soon?" one asked, completely oblivious to the scene in front of them. The rest stood still, eyes flicking back and forth between the two strangers in front of them, probably trying to figure out why it seemed like there was going to be a fist fight in a study room soon.
"No!" Arya and Gendry yelled in unison and then watched as the group left, closing the door behind them.
"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?” Arya scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her weight to her left foot. “'Are we gonna be done soon?' Gods, what does he think a closed door means.... why are you making that face?"
He laughed at her. It reminded her of how her brother Jon would laugh at her, usually after she’d said something completely asinine, or tried to find her sunglasses that were still sitting on top of her head. The type of laugh that she couldn't help but smile at, no matter how much it served to further anger her.
"Did you just refer to my musical tastes as... 'whiny baby music'?" he asked, making quote marks in the air. She nodded, unsure of where this was going. "That's the best I've heard yet. Usually I get something more along the lines of 'sad bastard music,' but I think that was from when freshman year when I had this thing for The Smiths and generally feeling sorry for myself."
He sat back down in the chair as a he finished talking, and Arya took a cue from him and did the same. It wasn’t a far stretch for her to imagine him sitting in his dorm room freshman year, Morrissey singing “How Soon is Now?” and annoying this piss out of his roommate. Oh, shit. I’ve done that.
“Hey, Gendry?” Arya started, just to get his attention before he put his headphones back in.
“Hmm?” he mumbled questioningly, looking up from what he was sketching in his notebook.
"... they're not too horrible, ya know. The Smiths."
Her prize for her admission was getting to hear that laugh again, and she was okay with that.
Thursday, January 22nd, 2015
“Okay, so before you say anything, I brought these for you,” she started, once she opened the door and saw him already sitting in the study room. She sat a paper plate of lemoncakes on the table in front of him.
“For me?”
“Yea. Well, not just for you, I’d like some too… look, I thought about earlier this week and the yelling and I wanted to say that I’m sorry. You got your own stuff you like, I’ve got mine. But from what it seems like so far, we both want a good grade in this class, and this is me calling a truce. Deal?”
“Deal. Might as well give it the old college try, right?” he said, and found her looking at him strangely. “What’s with the look?”
“Just odd. My dad’s the only person I’ve heard say that phrase, just the other week too.”
“Well, great minds think alike. Although,” he continued, as he picked up a paper bag off the chair next to him and sat it on the table, “I’m a bit taken back by how much you and me think alike.” He reached in and grabbed a similar plate out, this one holding a dozen or so miniature chocolate cupcakes with white frosting, a handful of which had “I’m sorry” spelled out in blue icing. “I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked so I just picked chocolate.”
“Are you kidding me right now? Chocolate is perfect. So, what do ya say?” Arya said, picking up a cupcake and holding it out towards him across the table. “Shall we toast?”
“Might as well,” he replied, a smirk playing on his face. “What to?”
“Oh, Seven Hells, I dunno…” she replied. She looked around the room and the slapped her hand down on the course pack. “To horribly expensive class materials!”
“To medieval tapestries of Aegon and his sisters!”
“To tolerating others in order to get delicious homemade baked goods!” Arya touched the side of her cupcake to the lemoncake that Gendry was holding up, then finished unwrapping the it and took a big bite out of the side.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but those are from the bakery counter at Fossaway’s,” he replied, and continued to eat his lemoncake.
“Gendry, you can’t apologize with store-bought cupcakes! That’s some bullshit right there,” she complained. Arya crossed one arm over her chest, but kept nibbling at the cupcake in her left hand.
“Oh, and I suppose those lemoncakes are homemade?“ He gestured towards the dozen or so on the paper plate.
“Yea, they are, because I know how to apologize correctly.”
“So you’re telling me that you slaved away in your kitchenless dorm room and made those?”
Arya let out a loud groan when she realized she’d been found out. “Well, no… my sister Sansa made them and mailed them to me.” She took a bite to finish the cupcake in her hand, then grabbed another from the plate and started to peel the wrapper off. “It’s cool though. Fossaway’s has a damned good bakery. And, I can see that you wrote out that heartfelt message on them yourself.”
“See? They’re a bit handmade. Also, we need to FaceTime your sister or something, because if she’s not making money off these lemoncakes then that’s a tragedy.”
“Alright, don’t get ahead of yourself. How about you figure out where in that behemoth course pack our reading is today, and I’ll send her a text?”
“Good enough for me,” he replied, and started thumbing through the pages, finally finding the spot and clueing Arya in on what it was this time.
Note to self, Arya thought, lemoncakes and chocolate apologetic cupcakes with shaky 6-year old handwriting taste amazing, and are able to make even this situation much, much better.
Thursday, February 5th, 2015
“Now, before we’re done for the day, I’ve gotten a barrage of emails regarding your mid-term exam – whether it will be essay, multiple choice, et cetera. One optimistic soul even went so far as to ask if it would be open book,” Professor Lannister began. “And, I’m sure you will all be happy to know, that this semester mid-term will be a group project – pairs of two. They’re due to me by 5pm on February ”
A collective groan rung out across the classroom.
“I’m pleased to hear that everyone is glad about the project. They’re due to me in class, or via email, by 5pm on February 26th, our last class before you’re free for spring break.”
Arya’s phone buzzed on her desk as their professor continued to explain some more of the details of the mid-term project. She grabbed it off her desk before it could buzz again and held it in her lap to look at it.
Text from: Gendry Stupid Hipster Waters
How about it? Partners?
She quickly typed out a reply, and then watched him look down at his phone a few seconds later.
Text from: Arya Stark
Of course. You’re the smartest one in here.
Text from: Arya Stark
Well, not counting me.
Thursday, February 26th, 2015
Shortly after the announcement about their mid-term, Arya and Gendry had started meeting outside the library to work on their project, and for some odd reason it felt like a huge step in their ‘strictly schoolwork’ relationship to Arya. She’d tried to explain it to Mya, who just rolled her eyes at her and told her she was acting like a child. When she brought it up casually to Sansa when they were Skyping about the family’s spring break plans, her sister immediately had figured her out.
“Don’t you see, Arya? You’re becoming friends now. Not just classmates or group project partners. And the more you hang out, the more you’ll get to know him. And like him. Taking that interaction away from the library and bringing it to your dorm room, heck, even to a coffee shop is moving towards friends.”
“That’s just it. He’s still so infuriating at times. You should see it, Sans, it’s like…”
“Oh, I know what it’s like. You’re crazy if you say I didn’t think Maggy was infuriating when I first met her.”
“It’s not like that—“
“It will be. I’ll have you know I checked out his profile pic when you became friends, and trust me, it’ll be like that.”
It was just before 5pm the day their mid-term was due. The library was packed that week, full of what seemed like everyone on campus hurrying to get their last bit of work done before spring break. They’d met at Indigo Star instead, a coffee place on the main street outside of campus, where’d they started to meet once or twice a week instead of the library. Gendry had praised its strong coffee, breakfast sandwiches, and fast internet, all of which Arya found to be true. After going over the paper one more final time, Arya watched as Gendry copied her on the email, then hit the send button, shooting their paper and related documents off to Professor Lannister.
“So, is this what freedom feels like?” Gendry asked. He shut his laptop and put it back in his bag.
“It just might be, at least for a week or so,” she said, starting to put her things back in her messenger bag as well. “Shit. I just remembered. Mya’s having her boyfriend over this evening since she won’t see him over break. You don’t wanna grab dinner or something, do you? I’d really rather not walk in on them again.”
“Yea, sure. How about that Braavosi place?” She nodded her agreement as they stood up and made their way out to the street. “I’m a bit surprised you wanna hang out with me any more than you have to, now that you’re technically on vacation.”
“Whatever, Waters. You’re not that bad.”
“Quick, say that again so I can record it and play it back next time you’re angry at me.”
She laughed and punched his arm in retaliation.
It still surprised her that they were able to get along so well after starting out so spectacularly awful. Sure, they still made fun of each other, but it was more good-natured than malice-filled like at the beginning of the semester. They both liked the X-Files and making fun of Scully’s power suits, 80s action movies like Die Hard, and Arya was surprised to find someone else that liked pottery from the Summer Isles, since she thought so far it was only her and the Islanders themselves. They’d spent many evenings on the floor of Arya’s dorm room, after they were tired of studying and the words had started to blur, sitting on the awful discount store rug she’d bought the first week, using pillows as back cushions and watching laughably horrible sci-fi movies with Mya, usually eating cookies she’d snuck out of the cafeteria in the giant bag she always carried. He told her how he’d never met his father, and how his mother died long ago, leaving only memories about a tall blonde lady who loved iced tea and sang Stevie Nicks songs to him. She told him about her brother Jon, how it angered her when her mother said he wasn’t her real brother, how he’d joined the Westerosi Defense Forces and been stationed at the Wall, and how every skirmish with the Free Folk that she saw on the news made her worried that he’d never come home again.
They got to the restaurant quickly, ordering from the owner at the counter, and taking seats at the table near the window, which Arya told Gendry was her favorite, since it let her people watch on the main road.
"Ya know, you're the first group partner I've ever had that actually did work," Arya remarked when their food arrived.
"Why wouldn't I do the work? That'd be a pretty dick move to leave it all to you, and besides, I like this class... and I need it for my major."
"What is your major? You've never said." She passed the basket of fluffy biscuits across the table to him.
"I haven't?" Her mouth was full of food, so she shook her head in reply. "It's history."
"Really?”
“I’m not gonna lie about my major.”
“Guess then it makes sense how you answered all the questions correctly for the quiz the first day of class.”
“You remember that? Shit,I thought no one else was going to answer anything.”
“Nah, that wasn’t it,” Arya said. She’d ordered her favorite, a spicy stew, and was making quick work of showering it with all the different toppings it came with. “We were all just so impressed with your impeccable knowledge of Aegon’s Conquest and wanted to bask in your glory.”
“Well, they all must be jealous of you. Getting to bask in my glory almost every day.”
“Hah, yea. I’ll FaceTime you over spring break if I’m feeling particularly deprived of your glory.”
Thursday, March 5th, 2015
She could hardly believe she was about to do this. It was Spring Break and she was at the timeshare they owned on a ski trip with her family and siblings. She’d been the only person this year not to bring their significant other or a friend along. Well, if I had a significant other I’d bring them with me, she’d told her mother earlier that week. During the day, she was fine out on the mountains by herself, able to listen to her music through her helmet and ski wherever she pleased, but it seemed like everyone else had made plans this evening and after a couple re-runs of Law & Order she couldn’t take it anymore.
She was bored and of all the things she felt like doing, she’d decided she wanted to talk to Gendry. She’d already walked down to the square for a coffee, had a quick soak in the hot tub, and called for some carry-out for dinner. For some reason, she’d had him stuck in her head this whole trip. She found herself wondering what he’d be thinking of the Top 40 hits they played in the main lodge, or if he’d even been skiing… hells, if he’d even seen real snow, not that poor excuse for snow that Storms End gets once every five years.
She grabbed Bran’s miniature tripod, fixed her iPhone into it, opened FaceTime and called him.
He probably won’t answer. Probably out with friends, or at work, or…
“Arya Snark, I didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of talking to you,” he said, then paused. She could see the background moving and assumed he was in his apartment finding a place to sit down. She’d never actually been over there since they always were somewhere in public or at her dorm.
“Seems like after a few months of constant contact that I just can’t stay away,” she deadpanned, her voice thick with sarcasm in hopes that he wouldn’t realize she sort of meant it. She studied the screen in front of her, trying to see what his apartment was like. Hold on a sec. “Are you not wearing a shirt?”
“Nope,” he replied. “I do have pants on though, in case you were wondering.”
“I was not wondering that.” I was totally wondering that, she thought to herself. Where the fuck have those shoulders been this whole time? And is that a chest piece of… deer antlers? Shit, what else is he hiding under those flannel shirts? She quickly changed the topic.
She told him about their timeshare and the mountain, her favorite runs she’d skied more times than she could count. It was like she’d made notes in her head of all the random thoughts she’d refrained from telling him the past couple of days, for before she could realize it, she’d moved on other topics. The commercial for a new HBO show she thought they’d both like, how the Braavosi café here was overpriced and crappy compared to the one they’d visited a few days earlier on campus, an impressive near-collision she’d seen on the half-pipe on Tuesday… everything she’d thought of texting him but held back instead.
The doorbell startled her and she ran to answer it and grab her dinner, then realizing they’d already been talking for a half hour. So, instead, she worked on her dinner, listening to him talk about his work at the record store, going on about some of the ridiculous custom orders from people, his coworkers’ antics, and how he’d been keeping busy on the sleepy spring break campus.
“You’ll never guess where I stopped by last night,” he said, and she shrugged at his rhetorical question. “The university art gallery.”
“Wait, what? You stopped by the gallery? As in, the one with my work on display?”
“That’s the one. Tell ya the truth, I wish I’d gone earlier. The pictures on your phone don’t do your work justice.” There were a number of her works on display at the student gallery currently, and she was surprised as he went through what he’d thought of them. Many were quick five or ten minute sketches from her figure drawing class, but there was also charcoal self-portrait and a series of landscapes she’d painted just for fun last semester. It was like he’d showed up with his own tape recorder and sketch pad, like she at the bigger museums for her own assignments. He had managed to remember the names and medium for them, and actually gave her intelligent comments about them, not the way that most of her friends just mumbled something and feigned interest.
“Arya? Are you home?” She heard the door open and Sansa’s voice calling her, and then another set of snow boots stomping on the porch.
“Crap, I should probably go, my sister and her girlfriend just got back from dinner, and I should probably be sociable. I can’t believe I’ve taken up this much of your night.”
“It’s no big deal,” he said. “Enjoy the rest of your trip. Try not to miss me too much.”
“Hah, as if that’s possible,” she countered. They quickly said good-bye, and Arya closed FaceTime, set the tripod down on the coffee table, and opened a different app.
“Why are you sitting in the living room in the dark?” Sansa asked as she walked in and flicked on the overhead lights, just as Arya was saying good-bye. “Holy crap, was that who I think it was?”
“What? I was just playing on my phone and must’ve lost track of time,” Arya lied.
“Do you usually carry on a conversation with yourself?” Great, now Margaery is part of this. She plopped down next to Arya on the couch.
“…and use the tripod? What exactly were you doing, little sister?” Sansa asked. She’d grabbed the tripod off the table and was tossing it back and forth between her hands.
Dammit, no getting out this time it seems.
“Ugh, fine. So I called Gendry. Big deal. Better than playing third wheel to you two all evening.”
“Aww, isn’t that adorable Mags? Don’t you remember how flustered I used to get when I first realized you liked me?”
“Shut. Up.” Arya muttered through closed teeth, then stomped off to her room, thanking the gods she was sharing with Bran and Jojen instead of Sansa and Margaery.
Wednesday, March 11th, 2015
The library was quiet again after Spring Break. They’d received another set of reading to do and topic to study, and Arya had spent about two hours going between the online card catalog, searching out books, then going all throughout the library, bringing stacks of books and copies of paintings from the special collections back to the study room. Gendry was organizing all of it with neon-colored post-it notes so that later they could work on comparing the artistic styles of paintings of famous battles from Westeros and Free Cities.
Arya had just sat another stack of books on the desk when her stomach grumbled loud enough to startle her.
"Hungry much?”
“Ugh, starved,” Arya replied, taking a seat at the table, and opening up the course pack to the assigned pages. “I usually have lunch around twelve-thirty, but I stayed longer at the art studio this morning, trying to make up for break, and by the time I got to the caf it was already closed for lunch. If I pass out mid-study just drag me back to the lawn in front of East Quad, someone'll recognize me eventually.”
“We could order a pizza. I know a place that’s pretty good,” he replied, not even looking up from what he was doing. The pause in reply from Arya was longer than he’d expected, and when he looked up, he saw her confused stare.
“What’s wrong? Don’t like pizza?”
“What? No, of course I like pizza… it’s just… How do you propose we get a pizza past the front desk?” she asked. She dog-eared the course pack before closing it, then pushed her chair back from the table and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m all in for breaking library rules and all, but there’s someone sitting right at the entrance and a huge sign about no outside food. It's not like lemon cakes or a soda that I can fit in my backpack.”
“Oh, it can be done.”
XxXxX
"Stop. Giggling." He whispered, nudging her shoulder. It was twenty minutes later and they were standing at the bottom of a utility staircase at the back corner of the library. Gendry had his hoodie zipped up completely, the hood over his head and the sunglasses on, despite the fact that the stairwell lights were all on. They’d stashed all the materials Arya had gathered in a cubby for safe-keeping.
“I can't. This is too ridiculous. I feel like I'm helping some bank robbery, not smuggling pizza into a library. All I'm missing is a black ski mask, maybe some pantyhose stretched over my face. Also, you look a lot like the Unabomber in that get-up,” she added.
He was just about to snap back at her when they a large young man turning the corner from the front side of the library with a pizza box.
“Fucking finally, Hot Pie,” Gendry said when he opened the emergency exit. Thankfully no fire alarm went off. “I thought these were supposed to be ready in five minutes.”
“Not when I’ve got to run across campus they’re not,” his friend replied, trying to catch his breath.
“Whatever. Thanks, man,” he said, giving him a slap on the shoulder. “I’ll pay you back later.”
He grabbed the pizza from Hot Pie, and turned to see Arya already halfway up the first flight of stairs, her backpack bouncing back and forth as she took the stairs two at a time. With a good hold on the now lukewarm pizza box, he ran up five flights of stairs after her, to the special collections stacks, old dusty books that almost never get looked at and had been collecting dust for decades.
They were both out of breath from running up the stairs, and they settled in to a spot Arya had picked. They sat on the linoleum floor, leaning against a shelf of books about medieval Lhazareen sheep herding on Arya’s side and matriarchy in Slavers Bay on Gendry’s side, with the pizza box set on a step stool next to Arya.
“Why’d you drag me all way up here to the special collections?”
“No one else up here.”
“Oh, tryin’ to get me alone?” he asked, leaning over and knocking his knees into hers. Her eyes jumped up and met his, taken aback by the sudden contact.
“What? You wish, Waters. Although, this is probably a pretty typical romantic makeout spot for you history majors, isn’t it?”
He rolled his eyes. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. Just eat your pizza, Arya Snark.”
They ate in silence for a few more minutes, maybe trying to catch their breath still, maybe just hungry and wanting to eat uninterrupted. That’s what Arya told herself. She wasn’t thinking about that little jolt that went through her when he knocked his knees into his, or if there was any real meaning behind what was probably a joke. She definitely hadn’t noticed all the times she caught him looking at her a little too long over the top of his laptop, or how strained goodbyes and threats to steal the course pack had slowly turned into hugs and texts about things not related to class. These little touches had started to happen much more often once they got back from Spring Break. Then there was that nickname he’d given her, Arya Snark. There was a little less bite to it each time he said it, and soon she realized he was just calling her that because he liked it. It sounded like there was a hint of fondness behind it, which she reluctantly admitted to herself was not unwanted.
“It's probably the hunger talking, but this is the best damn pizza I've ever had,” she said, as she leaned over to put the crust of the piece she’d just finished back in the box. He leaned over, all the way across her, to grab the soon-to-be-discarded crust from her hand. She tried to ignore the fact that his hand touched hers.
“It's just a hot ‘n’ ready,” he replied, shrugging and taking a bite of the crust. “If you think that's good, you should come over and have some of my homemade pizza.”
“Did you just invite me over?”
“Yea, I did. I’ve sat on the uncomfortable floor of your dorm room one too many times. Time for you to come to me. Friday at 8? That’ll give me enough time after work to get dinner started.”
She immediately thought about the implications of this. His apartment, where she knew there was no roommate and it’d be just the two of them. And this wasn’t him coming over to her dorm room to work on classwork, even though recently that sometimes turned into a lot more hanging out than studying, a lot more watching reruns of X-Files on Netflix than analyzing Essosi artwork, a lot more bottles of shitty beer and stolen glances than cans of Monster and trying to remember details of Aegon’s Conquest.
“You’re offering to make me dinner? You bet your ass I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Friday, March 13th, 2015
“Oh, awesome. You’re here. Just in time too,” he commented when he opened the door. She’d stood outside his apartment door for what seemed like forever, debating if this was a good idea or not. I definitely didn’t almost chicken out and run back to the dorm, and I definitely didn’t fix my hair in the side mirror of one of your neighbor’s cars. Mya had whistled at her like a pervy construction worker and told her to ‘get some’ when she came out of the suite bathroom the outfit that she’d spent an uncharacteristically long time picking out. High-waisted denim shorts, rolled up shorter than she usually did, black tights, and a simple white Oasis tshirt, a bit too big since it’d belonged to her uncle Benjen, that she’d made into a crop top with scissors once the bottom hem came undone. It’d rained most of the day, and the coolness in the air still sticking around, making her glad she’d worn a jacket for her walk over. It was one of the only hand-me-down items of clothing she’d received from her mom that she actually liked – a now faded black leather jacket with a cranky zipper.
“Yea, I had a friend from my figure drawing class last semester that lived in this complex,” she answered. “Oh, and I brought some snacks with me, too, since you’re making the pizza and all.”
I spent 45 minutes this afternoon wandering through Fossaway’s trying to figure out what to buy, but let’s keep that to myself.
“Awesome.” Gendry moved to the side to let her in, smirking when he saw her toe off her beat up shoes without unlacing them, but still pushing them neatly together with her foot before following him to the kitchen. She hung her jacket and bag off the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He checked the time left on the oven clock and bent down quickly to look inside, happy to see nothing burning yet. “Make yourself at home. Just a bit more time left on the pizza,” he said as he grabbed two drinks from the fridge, then turned to see her leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen, cautiously looking around his apartment. He crossed over to wear she stood, passing her drink to her, then joining her, leaning against the counter a few steps away. The apartment was warm, most likely from the oven, and instead of his normal button down, he was wearing a rather cliché t-shirt with a deep v-neck. Arya tried not to let him catch on to her noticing his shoulders again, and she was able to confirm that yes, he did have a tattoo across his chest of deer antlers, with an old style sigil and the old Baratheon words, Ours is the Fury, across the bottom. She made a note to ask about that later.
“And don’t worry. Your half of the pizza is ‘normal’,” he explained, air quotes and all.
“Normal?” She asked, patting the counter next to her, then lifting herself up there once she saw him nod his approval. It made her a few inches closer to being as tall as him, but even when he was leaning she was still laughably shorter.
“Yea, 100% all-Westerosi traditional toppings. No broccoli rabe, or truffle oil, artisan aged prosciutto, or any other dirty hipster ingredients on your side.”
“I don’t think—” she started to say, looking down at her lap where her hands held the cold bottle of cider he’d given her.
“You don’t think I’m a dirty hipster?” he asked back, interrupting her, eyes fixed on her when she looked up. “You haven’t been scanning my apartment for something to rag on me about?”
“No, I mean…,” she trailed off, watching him take the last few steps over her. He stopped when he was directly in front of her, and took the bottle she was fidgeting with out of her hands, placing it on the counter to the side of her.
“What do you mean, Arya?”
Her eyes flicked down quickly, taking in where his hand was resting against his outer thigh. Seven bloody hells, be cool Arya, she told herself, but she could already feel her heartbeat racing. This escalated quickly.
“Well, you drive that scooter thing around… and then there’s the mopey indie music you’ve got playing right now. And the craft hard cider you gave me. How about the vintage road bike against the wall?” she explained, her normal nervous word vomit coming out surprisingly shaky. It was already nerve-wracking, and then he started drawing lazy circles on her thigh with his thumb. That, combined with the sound of Tim Kasher’s voice singing The Good Life songs coming out of the record player, the way the pizza he made for her smelled, and how he was still looking at her like that, like he wanted her and… Gods, Arya, get the fuck out of your head and realize what’s happening! You’ve wanted this. Not since the beginning, but still. What would Mya tell me to do? Calm yo tits and do something, before he thinks you’re not interested.
“You like my moped, you said so two weeks into the semester. I knew you liked that cider when you liked their page on Facebook, and then sent me an invite to do the same. You’ve even said The Smiths aren’t all that bad, which is high praise coming from someone that listens to as much grunge as you do…” he paused for a second, looking away to grab his cider and take a drink. It was the first time he’d taken his eyes off of her since he’d cornered her. “So, it makes me think, what else does she like that I don’t know about?”
Welp, better do it now. Especially since he’s practically begging to hear it.
“I like you,” she replied, calm and collected this time, and she couldn’t stop herself from letting a dopey smile spread across her face when she saw how quickly he pulled his look back to her. “I like the blue pea coat you wear because it brings out your eyes. And I like the way you look at me over your laptop screen, thinking that I’m too dumb to notice.”
“I like the way that you put all of yourself into your artwork.”
“I like the way you can calm me down when I start to think we’re going to fuck up our projects.” She took her hands off the counter and grabbed a hold of his, moving her legs apart so he could stand between her them, watching him raise an eyebrow at her.
“I like the way you wear tights under these crazy short shorts, even though it’s winter. Makes me regret ever saying that you had short little legs, since all I really wanted to do was get my hands on them.”
“I like all of this, from you making me dinner to the goofy man-bun thing you’ve got going on tonight, but I’m really starting to think I’d like it better if you kissed me now. Save the compliments for later.”
She thought he’d hesitate. She could see how his pupils were blown, feel the slight squeeze on her thighs at her suggestion, and she was certain if the music wasn’t as loud that she’d be able to hear his heartbeat through his chest.
He didn’t hesitate. She watched his gaze go to her lips, then back to her eyes, and he finally moved in, pushed her hair out of the way and kissed her neck.
Her mind immediately flashed back to a scene from the week before, watching Breakfast Club on the floor of her dorm room. Mya was nowhere to be found. Claire kissed Bender’s neck, and then there was Gendry’s comment ringing in her head, “You know they totally fucked in that storage closet, right?”
Oh, gods.
He’d left the spot on her neck, only pulling back enough to start placing light tiny kisses along her jawline. She felt his right hand leave hers and move to her knee, lightly circling her kneecap and then slowly start to make his way up her leg. He’d reached the rolled-up hem of her shorts now, sliding his fingers back and forth between the hem and her leg, still spending his time somewhere between her jaw and collarbone, which while certainly not unwelcome, was not what she really wanted at that moment.
“…will you stop that and kiss me properly?” she finally said, surprising herself with how softly her voice came out. “You’re being a damned tease.”
The second the words left her mouth, she felt him move his hand just an inch or two further and then stop abruptly when he reached her skin and the lace tops of the thigh-high stockings that Mya had told her would be a great idea to wear.
“Oh, and you aren’t teasing me?” he asked, pulling back to look at her, fingers still playing with the lace. “Hiding thigh-highs from me and everyth—”
He was cut off by the loud mechanical buzz of the oven timer, jumping a bit in surprise. “Fuck,” he swore, leaning down and resting his forehead against hers. “Guess it’s dinner time, huh?” He sounded completely defeated.
“Hey now, it’s cool. There’s plenty of time tonight, yea?” He nodded, barely moving his forehead from hers. She brought both hands up to cup his face, and scooted back a bit so she could see him. “Okay. So go take the pizza out of the oven before it burns. I’ll tell you how awesome it is, we’ll pretend to watch a movie for an hour or so, and I’ll let you kiss me for as long as you want.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Arya had never seen someone get off her as fast as he did at that moment, which made her chuckle a bit under her breath. She watched as he quickly grabbed oven mitts and pulled the pizza out, setting it on the stove. An adorable guy making me homemade pizza and the certainty of making out with him while ignoring a movie? I could definitely get used to this.