#Jonsa Au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sailorshadzter · 2 months ago

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hi i still exist. :)

The music that plays is soft and slow, a song she recalls from weddings past, a staple from each and every Northern wedding she’s attended throughout her life.

And yet somehow, someway, this time it feels different.

Perhaps it’s the three glasses of wine she’s consumed or perhaps it’s the fact that she’s not been home in something like three years.

There was nothing left for her here, after all.

She looks up as the song ends, the crowd applauding as the band takes a moment to pause, to drink a gulp of water before they return to their places, the next song falling from their instrument strings.

“Can I have this dance?”

The voice draws her out of her own mind, catching her off guard. She looks up and to her surprise, she knows the face grinning down at her, though it’s been something like a lifetime since they last spoke, let alone saw each other. “Jon,” she greets, smiling in spite of herself, red painted lips curving around the familiar syllable of his name. “It’s been a while,” she says, not answering his question; that question treads dangerous waters. Of all the people she expects to see at this thing, Jon isn’t one of them, and she suspects her best friend is to blame.

“I know,” he replies, extending his hand for her to take.

It takes but a moment or two more before she relents, slipping her hand into his and allowing him to pull her onto her feet. Together they make their way out to the center of the dance floor, to where the dozen or so other couples already dance, the bride and groom included, as a popular mainstream love song plays by the band’s hands. “I’m surprised to see you,” she admits as they fall into step, the dance as familiar today as it was all those years ago.

“Me too,” he admits with a laugh, so soft and slow, for a moment she thinks she might drown in the sound of it. “I was surprised when the invite arrived.” She glances at the bride, her best friend, Margaery, and she reminds herself to have a conversation with her at a later date. “I decided I couldn’t turn down the chance to see a wedding like this one with my own eyes.” She’s laughing now and he’s tightening his grip on her waist. “I didn’t think you would come,” he says next, softer now, his gray eyes somber when they meet hers.

What he means is I thought you would never return North after what happened here. The truth was, neither did she, but… Margaery had always been her friend, her best friend, and even when she’d been the one to fade away, Margaery had never lost sight of her. “I’m sorry…” he says next, his voice close to her ear, drawing her back in. “I shouldn’t have…”

“It’s okay,” she says with a shake of her head, offering him a smile. “I couldn’t say no to her,” she says, glancing towards her smiling friend, drunk off happiness and wine as she dances with her husband. “Even if I had, I imagine she’d have brought me here against my will.” He’s the one laughing now and as the song ends, he does not let go of her hand. “Dancing is a dangerous game,” she says softly, tilting her head as blue eyes meet gray.

Jon only grins, drawing her back in for a second dance.

[ x x x ]

That night, she twists beneath the bedsheets of the hotel room bed he’d rented for the weekend.

She revels in the way he utters her name, in the feel of his hands threading through her hair, in the way he moves between her thighs. “Sansa,” he rasps, his breath warm against the hollow of her throat, a reminder of the warm bed she left behind all those years ago. When he pulls back, she finds herself drowning in those smoldering gray eyes, eyes still yet full of the stars she’s dreamed of since their last moments together. For three long years, she’s slept with other men, dated and partied, but every night she always found herself longing for something, for someone, she no longer had.

It isn’t until he’s leaning in, kissing the salt from her lashes does she realize she’s begun to cry.

[ x x x ]

When the morning sunlight spills in through the hotel curtains, she carefully slips from his arms and the bed.

Tiptoeing across the room, she fishes her dress up off the floor, shimmying into it only to remember she can’t zip it up the back on her own. “Fuck,” she utters with a sigh, arm stretching at every awkward angle in an attempt to try anyway. As another curse is about to fall from her lips, she feels the brush of hands against her own and can feel the zipper make its ascent to the top, securing her back into the dress he’d nearly ripped from her body the night before. “Thanks,” she mumbles, swinging back around to face Jon where he stands in just his boxers, his hand lingering as if he means to touch her further. But, he must think on it, for it drops back to his side, tightening into a fist she does not notice. “I should go…” She turns away, thinking this would be it, this would be the last time…

“Do you have to?” He asks, unable to stop himself.

She stops, slowly revolving back to face him, those stoic features softening as gray eyes meet blue. “My train home… It’s not until Monday.” She admits quietly, thinking of the room in Margaery’s parents home she’s meant to occupy until then.

“Let’s have lunch then.” He says with a grin and she’s laughing in spite of herself.

“In this?” She asks, gesturing down at her slinky golden gown she’d worn to the wedding, wrinkled now from laying in a heap on the floor all night.

“Sure,” he says, reaching for his own discarded dress pants, far more wrinkled than her dress. “We’ll go somewhere to match the wardrobe,” he shrugs on his white button down, allowing her to reach out and adjust his collar when he’s gotten it buttoned up. “You know the place.”

Of course she did.

“Fine, but then you must take me to get my bag,” she says as she steps back into her heels, kicked off the night before as he tackled her into his bed.

“Does that mean you intend to stay?” He asks and she blinks, her heart skipping a beat.

“Only if you want me to.”

Jon grins, nodding, reaching out to take her by the hand.

[ x x x ]

Her phone hasn’t stopped buzzing since they left the restaurant.

Between the old ladies who had spotted them having lunch and Margaery’s parents telling her that she’d come by to collect her overnight bag, she and Jon didn’t have much of a chance to hide they’d been together, even if they had intended to do so. But the hours of the day are spent whittled away by wine and talk, by sex and joy, so it isn’t until well past midnight that she finally slips away from him, to step out onto the balcony in just his t-shirt, to pick up her phone and dial the number that has relentlessly called and texted all day long.

“Finally!” Margaery’s voice explodes in her ear after the first ring.

“No one would believe today was your first day of being married, considering you spent the entirety of the day calling me.” Sansa quips and her friend laughs on the other end and she can practically hear the smile in Margaery’s breathing.

“And you spent the entirety of the day doing… Jon Snow?”

Sansa laughs in response and Margaery shrieks, much like they were teenagers once more. “I knew it! That old Mrs. Hightower said you two left together last night but I didn’t believe her… Until mother called that is. How was it?” Sansa can picture her friend as she must have been right then, with that twisted smile she only ever wore when it came to talking about Jon Snow.

“I’m not going home.” She says without missing a beat, without an ounce of hesitation.

Even that shut up Margaery.

“You’re… Not…?” She asks when she’s recovered her senses a moment later. “It must be good.”

Sansa turns around, back to the balcony edge, staring in through the glass door to where she can see Jon still asleep in the bed. Her heart skips a beat and she knows it goes against everything she’s told herself over the last few years. It goes against everything she’s tried to do for herself, against the new life she’s tried so desperately to build. “No… Not right away, anyways.” For some reason, now that she’s come back to this place, to this person, she can only wonder how she ever left at all. “I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She hangs up before Margaery can answer and returns inside, slipping back into her place beside him in the bed.

He lets out a long, sleepy breath as he turns over, arm extending out over her hips. “I wondered where you’d gone…” He breathes into her ear, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her earlobe as one wandering hand slides up beneath the hem of his shirt she wears.

“Can I stay?” She asks quietly, thinking of what she’d just told Margaery.

Jon pauses, his fingertips brushing across the curve of her hip as he lifts his head, leaning over her so their eyes can meet. “You’re already here…” He says with the hint of confusion laced into his tone.

“I mean… After Monday.”

Jon blinks, realization dawning, and a grin spreads across his face, those eyes of his full of twinkling stars. She imagines their life as it always could have been, these long nights together, the early morning coffee cups, the boots he wears beneath the edge of their shared bed… Such thoughts fill her to the brim with warmth, with a sensation she’s only ever felt in his arms. “You can stay forever, if you’d like.”

She smiles, thinking how sweet that sounded- forever.

It could be theirs, just this once.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #modern jonsa #jonsa au #taylor swift is a jonsa #i wrote this #my writing #jon x sansa

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