Fic: Even When the Sun Goes Down [7/11]
Title: Even When the Sun Goes Down
Author: luna_plath
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Jon/Sansa
Word count: 1,700
Warnings: character death, sexuality, mentions of past abusive relationship, anxiety disorder
Summary: The murder of Ned Stark shocks all of central North Carolina. While the police investigate the circumstances surrounding Ned's murder, his daughter Sansa Stark reunites with Jon Snow, an old family friend. An Afghan War veteran, Snow takes it upon himself to investigate Ned's mysterious death--whatever the cost.
AN: If feels so long since I last updated, but I did finish one of my other WIPs, so that's one less commitment to worry about. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter.
Sansa rubbed a dab of foundation into her skin, applying her makeup in the bathroom mirror while she listened for a knock at the door. Tonight she was going to Margaery Tyrell’s twenty-first birthday party. Margaery had been her freshman roommate in the dorms and, despite not seeing her as much since moving off campus, Sansa was excited to see her old friend and do something completely normal for a change.
She hadn’t spent much time going out this semester. Sansa found that, since her father’s death, she had been dealt one unhappy circumstance after another, from her breakup with Joffrey to her complicated relationship with Jon and the growing distance between herself and Myranda. It had become hard to enjoy the things she used to love, a few of them including attending sorority events and hanging out with Myranda Royce, her one-time closest friend.
Opening her tube of Mac lipstick, Sansa swiped it over her bottom lip and pressed them together. Before she could make any more adjustments she heard a familiar knock on the front door.
She opened it to see Jon in dark jeans and one of his usual button-downs. There was some stubble along the line of his jaw and when he came inside she caught the scent of his cologne, a fully, heady fragrance that made her especially conscious of the fact that they were alone together.
“Hi,” she said, smiling and hoping that her lipstick wasn’t smeared.
“Hey. You look nice,” Jon said, his half-smile making pulse pick up speed.
“I’ve just got to get my bag.”
Sansa ducked into her bedroom, grabbed her purse, and took one last look at herself in the mirror over her dresser, quickly running her fingers through her hair and pulling on her favorite pair of black ankle boots. She’d gone for leggings and a tunic-style shirt-definitely not the type of outfit she would have chosen a year ago when she’d been preoccupied with keeping Joffrey’s attention, afraid of what he’d do if he found her lacking in comparison to other women.
As they walked to the car she was surprised when Jon’s hand brushed against hers more than once. Out of the corner of her eye Sansa caught him looking at her and it made her nerves clamor with activity, like they were strangers on a first date instead of well-acquainted friends. She knew that Jon wasn’t the type of person to hang out with Margaery Tyrell, but she’d been relieved when he had offered to go with her, glad to have someone there in case she ran into Joffrey or any of his fraternity brothers.
The drive to Margaery’s upscale apartment seemed to take an eternity, even if the traffic downtown was nothing out of the ordinary. Biting her lower lip, Sansa was glad for the soothing chatter of the college radio station, grateful for a distraction from her darting thoughts. She forced herself not to play with the ring she wore on her right hand, a nervous habit that Jon would undoubtedly notice.
“We only have to stay as long as you want,” Jon offered, likely picking up on her feelings.
“Thanks,” Sansa replied.
She saw many people at the party that she recognized from the dorm or from classes, but Sansa stuck close to Jon’s side, feeling like a cork bobbing in a sea of people. Margaery gave her a tight hug when she saw her and Sansa made sure to introduce Jon-it was clear from the slow sweep of Margaery’s green eyes that she approved. Before Sansa could object her friend was handing her a strong gin and tonic. Absurdly, she saw that Margaery had gotten one of their friends to be a bartender, with several hundred dollars worth of liquor lined up on the counter.
“Cheers,” Jon said, tapping the rim of her red solo cup with his own.
After several drinks it was easier for Sansa to be around so many strangers. Margaery’s apartment was twice the size of the one Sansa had, but even so there were enough people crowded inside to make the temperature increase uncomfortably. She danced with Jon in a press of other bodies, feeling thankful when he slid his arm around her, pulling her away from a guy she didn’t know who had tried to put both his hands on her hips. Fanning herself, Sansa inclined her head to the balcony and the cool breeze that gusted inside from the open doors.
Jon nodded and followed her outside, grabbing two unopened bottles of Dasani water from a cooler full of drinks. She accepted one gratefully.
Leaning against the railing, Sansa looked at the lit up streets of downtown Raleigh and the cars that passed beneath them, their headlights like fireflies in the dark. Reaching the bottom of her bottle of water, Sansa felt for Jon’s hand, her fingers easily sliding between his. Expecting to see his usual uneven smile, she was surprised at the dark look that crossed his face.
“We should go,” Jon said, holding her hand a little more tightly.
“What?” Sansa asked, but she followed his line of sight to the other end of the balcony, spying a familiar blonde-haired figure surrounded by his taller, stronger friends.
Looking to the doorway, she was disheartened to see that it was blocked by a thick crowed of people, the group of them standing so close together that they’d never be able to get through without drawing attention to themselves.
“Just ignore him,” Jon said, but Sansa had already heard what Joffrey was saying to Boros and Sandor, his fraternity brothers.
“…and have I ever shown you my grandfather’s heirloom handgun?” she heard Joffrey say, his posture denoting pure arrogance.
Sansa turned her face away, hoping that Joffrey wouldn’t notice them standing not ten feet away, but even with her back to him she couldn’t block out the sound of his voice.
“It’s a pearl-handled Colt .45. He took me shooting-it fires perfectly.”
“I bet it could really blow someone’s head off,” she heard Boros say, the sound of his low laughter twisting in her gut.
“I’m sure it’s been used for that in the past,” Sansa heard Joffrey gloat.
Hearing him excitedly talk about shooting had made her head start to spin. Sansa dropped her empty water bottle, firmly holding the railing of the balcony, the lights from traffic several stories below looking impossibly small. She tried to breathe but her chest was tightening inch my inch until she could hardly open her mouth to speak.
Sansa was unaware of what else Joffrey and his friends were saying. She only felt increasing nausea as Jon shouldered his way through people, his hand firmly clutching her own, holding her close while he elbowed their way off the balcony and past the space that had been cleared for dancing. A sharp, painful tingling had started in her arms and legs, like her skin was being raked over with bee stings. Jon kept his arm around her even once they got out into the hall and for that she was grateful, Joffrey’s words roiling in her head.
“He knew I was there,” she said, tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes.
“Forget him, okay? Lets go home.”
A blast of cool air hit them once they stepped out of the elevator and exited the building, the sensation making her feel dizzy, her insides churning beneath her clammy skin. Sansa braced herself against the side of the building, one hand planted on the stucco exterior as she emptied the contents of her stomach on the sidewalk. Jon swept her hair out of the way and rubbed slow circles on her back.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, feeling infinitely better once her stomach was empty. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me-I only had two drinks.”
“Anxiety,” Jon said, his eyes kindly meeting hers.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Her hand on her chest, Sansa felt her heart beat wildly against her ribs, like a bird that was desperate to escape confinement. He lead her to the car and she was grateful when Jon found a plastic bag for her to hold-she would hate to get sick all over his seats.
Even while he drove Jon held her hand, driving more quickly than usual and pulling in front of her apartment building before she’d even realized where they were. She felt disoriented and off-balance, like she’d fallen and whacked her head on the pavement.
“Lets get inside,” he said, leading her home.
Sansa thought that, no matter how she tried to make it up to him, she would never be able to adequately return the kindness that Jon showed her. When they got inside he insisted on staying while she cleaned herself up in the bathroom, pouring her a glass of water while she washed her face clean and brushed her teeth.
Lying down in bed, Sansa was grateful for Jon’s presence, all the while feeling embarrassed that she’d reacted so negatively to seeing Joffrey.
“He was trying to make me upset,” she said, her face pressed into the pillow.
“Do you want me to do something about him?” Jon asked, lightly brushing her hair behind her ear.
The soft sweep of his fingers felt pleasant against her skin. She turned on her side and let his hand skim her cheek, placing her hand over his and holding it there.
“No, don’t worry about it,” Sansa said. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
His thumb smoothing over her cheek, Jon said, “You would have been okay, you’re stronger than you think.”
Sighing, she closed her eyes.
“I just want to go to sleep,” Sansa confessed. “Will you stay?”
“Sure,” Jon said, lying down next to her.
She bundled herself up under the covers, peeking at Jon when he took off his button-down to reveal a plain T-shirt underneath. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out next to her, remaining on top of the sheets.
“Here,” Sansa offered, pulling back the blanket. “It’s alright, we’re just sleeping.”
After a moment Jon followed suit. She could feel his warmth much more clearly under the covers, the sensation comforting her even when she’d turned off the lamp on her bedside table and settled in to sleep. With him beside her Sansa felt safe.
Author: luna_plath
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Jon/Sansa
Word count: 1,700
Warnings: character death, sexuality, mentions of past abusive relationship, anxiety disorder
Summary: The murder of Ned Stark shocks all of central North Carolina. While the police investigate the circumstances surrounding Ned's murder, his daughter Sansa Stark reunites with Jon Snow, an old family friend. An Afghan War veteran, Snow takes it upon himself to investigate Ned's mysterious death--whatever the cost.
AN: If feels so long since I last updated, but I did finish one of my other WIPs, so that's one less commitment to worry about. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter.
Sansa rubbed a dab of foundation into her skin, applying her makeup in the bathroom mirror while she listened for a knock at the door. Tonight she was going to Margaery Tyrell’s twenty-first birthday party. Margaery had been her freshman roommate in the dorms and, despite not seeing her as much since moving off campus, Sansa was excited to see her old friend and do something completely normal for a change.
She hadn’t spent much time going out this semester. Sansa found that, since her father’s death, she had been dealt one unhappy circumstance after another, from her breakup with Joffrey to her complicated relationship with Jon and the growing distance between herself and Myranda. It had become hard to enjoy the things she used to love, a few of them including attending sorority events and hanging out with Myranda Royce, her one-time closest friend.
Opening her tube of Mac lipstick, Sansa swiped it over her bottom lip and pressed them together. Before she could make any more adjustments she heard a familiar knock on the front door.
She opened it to see Jon in dark jeans and one of his usual button-downs. There was some stubble along the line of his jaw and when he came inside she caught the scent of his cologne, a fully, heady fragrance that made her especially conscious of the fact that they were alone together.
“Hi,” she said, smiling and hoping that her lipstick wasn’t smeared.
“Hey. You look nice,” Jon said, his half-smile making pulse pick up speed.
“I’ve just got to get my bag.”
Sansa ducked into her bedroom, grabbed her purse, and took one last look at herself in the mirror over her dresser, quickly running her fingers through her hair and pulling on her favorite pair of black ankle boots. She’d gone for leggings and a tunic-style shirt-definitely not the type of outfit she would have chosen a year ago when she’d been preoccupied with keeping Joffrey’s attention, afraid of what he’d do if he found her lacking in comparison to other women.
As they walked to the car she was surprised when Jon’s hand brushed against hers more than once. Out of the corner of her eye Sansa caught him looking at her and it made her nerves clamor with activity, like they were strangers on a first date instead of well-acquainted friends. She knew that Jon wasn’t the type of person to hang out with Margaery Tyrell, but she’d been relieved when he had offered to go with her, glad to have someone there in case she ran into Joffrey or any of his fraternity brothers.
The drive to Margaery’s upscale apartment seemed to take an eternity, even if the traffic downtown was nothing out of the ordinary. Biting her lower lip, Sansa was glad for the soothing chatter of the college radio station, grateful for a distraction from her darting thoughts. She forced herself not to play with the ring she wore on her right hand, a nervous habit that Jon would undoubtedly notice.
“We only have to stay as long as you want,” Jon offered, likely picking up on her feelings.
“Thanks,” Sansa replied.
She saw many people at the party that she recognized from the dorm or from classes, but Sansa stuck close to Jon’s side, feeling like a cork bobbing in a sea of people. Margaery gave her a tight hug when she saw her and Sansa made sure to introduce Jon-it was clear from the slow sweep of Margaery’s green eyes that she approved. Before Sansa could object her friend was handing her a strong gin and tonic. Absurdly, she saw that Margaery had gotten one of their friends to be a bartender, with several hundred dollars worth of liquor lined up on the counter.
“Cheers,” Jon said, tapping the rim of her red solo cup with his own.
After several drinks it was easier for Sansa to be around so many strangers. Margaery’s apartment was twice the size of the one Sansa had, but even so there were enough people crowded inside to make the temperature increase uncomfortably. She danced with Jon in a press of other bodies, feeling thankful when he slid his arm around her, pulling her away from a guy she didn’t know who had tried to put both his hands on her hips. Fanning herself, Sansa inclined her head to the balcony and the cool breeze that gusted inside from the open doors.
Jon nodded and followed her outside, grabbing two unopened bottles of Dasani water from a cooler full of drinks. She accepted one gratefully.
Leaning against the railing, Sansa looked at the lit up streets of downtown Raleigh and the cars that passed beneath them, their headlights like fireflies in the dark. Reaching the bottom of her bottle of water, Sansa felt for Jon’s hand, her fingers easily sliding between his. Expecting to see his usual uneven smile, she was surprised at the dark look that crossed his face.
“We should go,” Jon said, holding her hand a little more tightly.
“What?” Sansa asked, but she followed his line of sight to the other end of the balcony, spying a familiar blonde-haired figure surrounded by his taller, stronger friends.
Looking to the doorway, she was disheartened to see that it was blocked by a thick crowed of people, the group of them standing so close together that they’d never be able to get through without drawing attention to themselves.
“Just ignore him,” Jon said, but Sansa had already heard what Joffrey was saying to Boros and Sandor, his fraternity brothers.
“…and have I ever shown you my grandfather’s heirloom handgun?” she heard Joffrey say, his posture denoting pure arrogance.
Sansa turned her face away, hoping that Joffrey wouldn’t notice them standing not ten feet away, but even with her back to him she couldn’t block out the sound of his voice.
“It’s a pearl-handled Colt .45. He took me shooting-it fires perfectly.”
“I bet it could really blow someone’s head off,” she heard Boros say, the sound of his low laughter twisting in her gut.
“I’m sure it’s been used for that in the past,” Sansa heard Joffrey gloat.
Hearing him excitedly talk about shooting had made her head start to spin. Sansa dropped her empty water bottle, firmly holding the railing of the balcony, the lights from traffic several stories below looking impossibly small. She tried to breathe but her chest was tightening inch my inch until she could hardly open her mouth to speak.
Sansa was unaware of what else Joffrey and his friends were saying. She only felt increasing nausea as Jon shouldered his way through people, his hand firmly clutching her own, holding her close while he elbowed their way off the balcony and past the space that had been cleared for dancing. A sharp, painful tingling had started in her arms and legs, like her skin was being raked over with bee stings. Jon kept his arm around her even once they got out into the hall and for that she was grateful, Joffrey’s words roiling in her head.
“He knew I was there,” she said, tears leaking out of the corner of her eyes.
“Forget him, okay? Lets go home.”
A blast of cool air hit them once they stepped out of the elevator and exited the building, the sensation making her feel dizzy, her insides churning beneath her clammy skin. Sansa braced herself against the side of the building, one hand planted on the stucco exterior as she emptied the contents of her stomach on the sidewalk. Jon swept her hair out of the way and rubbed slow circles on her back.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, feeling infinitely better once her stomach was empty. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me-I only had two drinks.”
“Anxiety,” Jon said, his eyes kindly meeting hers.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
Her hand on her chest, Sansa felt her heart beat wildly against her ribs, like a bird that was desperate to escape confinement. He lead her to the car and she was grateful when Jon found a plastic bag for her to hold-she would hate to get sick all over his seats.
Even while he drove Jon held her hand, driving more quickly than usual and pulling in front of her apartment building before she’d even realized where they were. She felt disoriented and off-balance, like she’d fallen and whacked her head on the pavement.
“Lets get inside,” he said, leading her home.
Sansa thought that, no matter how she tried to make it up to him, she would never be able to adequately return the kindness that Jon showed her. When they got inside he insisted on staying while she cleaned herself up in the bathroom, pouring her a glass of water while she washed her face clean and brushed her teeth.
Lying down in bed, Sansa was grateful for Jon’s presence, all the while feeling embarrassed that she’d reacted so negatively to seeing Joffrey.
“He was trying to make me upset,” she said, her face pressed into the pillow.
“Do you want me to do something about him?” Jon asked, lightly brushing her hair behind her ear.
The soft sweep of his fingers felt pleasant against her skin. She turned on her side and let his hand skim her cheek, placing her hand over his and holding it there.
“No, don’t worry about it,” Sansa said. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”
His thumb smoothing over her cheek, Jon said, “You would have been okay, you’re stronger than you think.”
Sighing, she closed her eyes.
“I just want to go to sleep,” Sansa confessed. “Will you stay?”
“Sure,” Jon said, lying down next to her.
She bundled herself up under the covers, peeking at Jon when he took off his button-down to reveal a plain T-shirt underneath. He kicked off his shoes and stretched out next to her, remaining on top of the sheets.
“Here,” Sansa offered, pulling back the blanket. “It’s alright, we’re just sleeping.”
After a moment Jon followed suit. She could feel his warmth much more clearly under the covers, the sensation comforting her even when she’d turned off the lamp on her bedside table and settled in to sleep. With him beside her Sansa felt safe.