Jul 13
my best friend's back :)))))))))
me crawling out of my hibernation hole (again)
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my best friend's back :)))))))))
me crawling out of my hibernation hole (again)
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Jon Snow has learned that loyalty is easier when it does not have a face. A vow can be kept at a distance. A kingdom can be served like an idea. A war can be fought because there is no other choice. But Daenerys Targaryen stands at the painted table with ash at the hem of her cloak and every lord in the room watching for weakness, and loyalty becomes something warmer, something harder to name. It becomes silver hair beneath torchlight, a quiet voice over maps, the rare softness in her eyes when she looks at him not as King in the North, not as a threat, not as another man waiting to disappoint her, but as Jon. The lords have been arguing for nearly an hour. Strategy, sacrifice, provisions, what the queen must do, what the queen must give, what the queen must become if she wants Westeros to love her. Men with clean hands speaking boldly of costs they will not pay themselves. Jon watches her listen in silence, chin lifted, shoulders still, fingers resting beside the map as though she is not tired. But he knows her better than they do. He sees the tension in her jaw. The weight she refuses to bend beneath. The loneliness of a woman surrounded by men who kneel and still do not stand with her.
So he steps beside her.
Not before he — she would hate that. Daenerys does not need a shield between herself and the room. But beside her, close enough that his hand rests near Longclaw, close enough that the hall understands what he means before he says it. ❝ Your Grace. ❞ His voice cuts through the council, quiet but firm. The room stills by degrees. Jon keeps his eyes on the gathered lords, though he feels her turn toward him. ❝ If any man here means to question the queen’s courage, he can do it after he has stood where she has stood. After he has faced what she has faced. After he has offered more to this war than advice from a warm hall. ❞ A few men look away — good. Only then does Jon look at her. The anger in him changes when he does. It becomes gentler, more dangerous, a feeling that has been growing between friendship and devotion with every late council, every shared silence, every moment her hand has brushed his over a map and neither of them moved away quickly enough. ❝ You should not have had to stand alone in this, ❞ he says, softer now, meant for her more than the room. ❝ I am not asking you to be fearless. I know better than that. I am asking you to remember that you are not without friends. ❞ The word is too small. Too careful for what sits in his chest when she looks at him like this. But it is the only word honor allows him. Jon holds her gaze, steady as the North, gentle as he knows how to be. ❝ You have me, Dany. Whatever they whisper. Whatever crown, war, or prophecy tries to take from you. You have me. ❞ @love-hypothesis
Derek spends the morning where she went. It is only half past noon when he sees her in the hallway outside Radiology, pretending not to avoid him. It was a specific kind of pretending. Very Meredith. Chart held too tightly against her chest, eyes fixed on absolutely nothing important, mouth set in that stubborn little line that usually meant she had already decided he was wrong and was simply waiting for him to catch up. He leaned against the wall beside her, close enough to be noticed, not close enough to give her a reason to run. “Dr. Grey.” Derek smiled despite himself. “You’re doing that thing. The thing where you act like you don’t see me.” He steps closer, eyes dashing to her lips before returning to her eyes. It's unfair how beautiful she is. “Because I’ve been standing here for thirty seconds, and you haven’t insulted me once. It’s concerning." He studies her again, the way she could stand in terrible lighting, wearing scrubs and exhaustion, and still make him forget every sensible reason he had for keeping his distance. He glanced toward the elevator, then back at her. “I’m getting coffee.” A step forward. "Care to join?" @love-hypothesis
The Love Hypothesis
I remember smiling like a fool reading this book. I kicked my feet in the air on my bed, I screamed into my pillow like a mad person. I loved that this book made me giddy and felt like I was falling in love with a non-existent someone. A week after reading The Love Hypothesis, I kept listening to love songs and smiling in places where I shouldn't have been.