“Brienne and Jaime sitting on a tree,” Tyrion loudly begins to chant. “K-i-s-s-i-n-g—”
“ Shut up,” Jaime snaps, hot around his ears. “We never went and sat on a tree.”
Tyrion raises his brows. “So does that mean you did kiss, but not on a tree?”
“I never said that,” Jaime mumbles, kicking himself for falling for it. He doesn’t dare look at Brienne who has her head down, eyes on her lap. “We haven’t kissed.”
“So you regret not having kissed her yet?” Tyrion prompts, luring him into the trap. “Does this mean you want to kiss her?”
“He didn’t say that,” Brienne says, cheeks as red as what his ears must be.
“Does that mean he doesn’t want to kiss you?” Tyrion continues.
Jaime knows anything he says will be twisted and used against him. “Enough of this. I’m leaving.”
Brienne follows suit when he gets up. “So am I.”
“Off to find a tree?” Tyrion calls out as they exit together.
“Shut up!” they shout together.
They get out of there, neither of them saying a word as he walks her home, too embarrassed to even look at each other, but when they reach her gate, Jaime stops, the urgency to clarify something taking over. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Brienne looks on questioningly.
“I never said I don’t want to kiss you.” He’s been pining for her for ages, watching, his heart heavy, as she went on to date Renly, offering a shoulder to cry on when she broke up with him. “I do regret not having kissed you yet, Brienne,” he admits, coming closer and taking her hand. “If you feel the same…” A bout of panic suddenly strikes him and he holds back the rest.
She’s surprised. Silent for a moment.
Did he go too fast? Is this the end of their friendship “Say something, wench.” If you don’t want to kiss me, curse me, at least.
Something changes in her eyes. Something that tells him Tyrion’s trick will work in his favour.
“Anywhere other than on a tree,” she softly replies, her cheeks colour a deeper red, a shy smile peeking from the corners of her lips. “You should come upstairs.”
