#ipaintmylipsred

             “Sansa,it’s me, you can tell me.” Jon says, and he smiles at her, hoping that she’lltell him. She usually runs to find Jeyne Poole whenever problems arise, but nowshe stands, rooted to her spot.

           “Youmustn’t tell anyone.”

           “I won’t.” Jon says with astern nod. Sansa places her hand in his after that, leading him to an alcove.It’s a small, poorly lit one they used to use for hide and seek when they werekids, and before Jon can remind her of it, she pushes him flush against thestone of the wall.

           “As youknow, the Royal family are due to arrive any day,” Sansa begins with her eyeslocked on his, and he nods at her so she knows he’s listening. “And it’s beenrumored and assumed that I will be betrothed to the prince, I mean I have beengroomed to be Queen since I could remember,” She sighs, and he isn’t sure ifit’s a regretful or hopeful one, but he grunts in response. “And I’ve spent somuch time, wasted so much time, and I guess I wanted something for myself.”

             “You’velost me, Sansa.” Jon says, rubbing the nape of his neck and trying hard toignore just how close they are standing to one another. The only time he seesher is during meals, and even then they don’t speak or sit together. Right now,she’s only a breath away and he can count every freckle on the tip of her nose,and it’s becoming too much.

           “I’ve neverbeen kissed, you imbecile.” Sansa replies, smiling nervously down at her hands.“I want the prince to have me, all of me, but I also want someone to have thatsmall part of me too. You think that’s silly don’t you? You do. Of course youdo.” He chuckles, wondering how she can say something unlike herself, butexactly like herself at the same time. She’s always been such a romantic, hasalways enjoying the parts of the stories where the hero saved the princess.

             “You are manythings Sansa, but you are definitely not silly.” Jon says, tucking his fingerunder her chin, a soft sentiment he saves exclusively for Arya, but with Sansait feels natural too.

           “So you’lldo it,” Sansa whispers, reaching to pull his hand from her chin, and hold itsoftly against her cheek. He stifles a groan at the welcoming warmth radiatingfrom her skin. “You’ll kiss me.” Shesays at an even lower whisper, and he can feel his breeches tightening fromsimple touches and words she is throwing at him.  He needs to push her away, tell her that he’sher bastard brother and that it’s wrong. He really needs to tell her that thisis not what she wants, and that she’ll regret kissing him, but every time hetries to turn her down, the words stick in his throat. He wants this. gods.

           “Justonce.”

           Jon ispushing her against the walls of the alcove with his lips on hers before shecan reply, but the moans she’s making in his mouth make him think she’s morethan okay with it. Her fingers loop through the curls in his hair, and hepresses his fingertips hard into the fabric of her dress trying to find herhipbones so he can bring her even closer to him.

           “I think, I thinkyou’re a good kisser.” Sansa says with a shaky voice because he’s not taken hismouth off her. He pressing wet kisses to her neck, her lips, and then a growlescapes his lips because it’s going to have to end. It’s just one kiss. It’sonly supposed to be one kiss.

           “Thank you,milady.” Jon replies, nuzzling her neck and pressing a final kiss to herclavicle. “And you have the sweetest kisses.” He means it, she tastes like thecandy their dad would bring them from town and the sugar in the lemoncakes sheeats, she tastes like summer.