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Sansa hadn’t meant to spy on her cousin Jon Snow. Really, she had just been minding her own business after breaking her fast. Jeyne and Beth were predisposed for the time being and Arya ran off with Bran somewhere, so Sansa decided to wander about the grounds of Winterfell. She was nearing the kennels, thinking about visiting Lady for a little bit when she came upon him.
Upon them.
There was the kennel master’s daughter, Sarah who was talking to Jon in the back. Sansa could see the pups playing nearby, but her eyes kept going back to the two of them. Sarah was older by two years, closer to Jon and her brother Robb’s age. She was pretty with long blonde hair and light brown eyes. She was also short. Shorter than she was, and Sansa was the younger of them.
She leaned against the wall just outside the kennel, watching them intently though she couldn’t fathom why. Her cousin was kind, but standoffish. All one had to do was look for a corner to find him brooding in it. He had the look of the Starks though, the long face with dark unruly hair and deep grey eyes.
Jon bore little of his father, favoring his mother Lyanna Stark, Sansa’s aunt. He looked like a mirror image of her Lord Father, ironically. He wasn’t bad looking either, not the most comely of boys in Winterfell, but he had a homely appearance that reminded her of Winterfell and the Starks in-general.
All-in-all, Sansa just wasn’t that close to Jon as her other siblings were. They didn’t have much in common to justify the same interactions he had with her brothers and even Arya with herself. Sansa was just about to announce her presence when something changed between Jon and Sarah.
Jon suddenly leaned over Sarah, gazing down into her eyes almost warmly as his forearm came to rest against the wall, caging the smaller girl between him and the wall. Sarah didn’t seem to mind though, smiling sweetly as her eyes fluttered. They were speaking so lowly, Sansa couldn’t hear a word said between them. Though that wasn’t exactly a bad thing considering things between them seemed to be edging near intimacy.
Her heart started to thump heavily inside her chest. Sansa wasn’t sure she could move, she was securely glued in her spot as she observed them. She watched as the girl lifted her chin up as Jon leaned further down, coming closer and closer to her. They’re going to kiss, Sansa thought as heat burned into her cheeks.
Without further ado, they were a breath away from each other then they were kissing. Sansa had seen her parents kiss before, had even caught Robb kissing one of the serving maids from the kitchens, but never had she been so intrigued by the aspect of kissing. She didn’t know if it was because of Jon or Sarah, or just that she happened upon the situation that brought the light into her eyes. Whatever it was though it opened her eyes wide.
The way their lips slipped and slide against each other’s, the way their mouths opened as they kissed. It was like a language all their own, only one they understood through each other. Suddenly Sansa was jealous of Sarah, jealous that she was experiencing something so wonderful and beautiful, something that was sung about for centuries and centuries. Sansa had yet to experience her first kiss, yet to feel the pressure of another’s lips upon her own.
She wondered what it felt like, was it soft like she expected? Sansa lightly touched her lips, feeling the softness of them. It looked wet too, like drooling. That thought disgusted her, but Sarah looked completely enthralled by Jon’s wet lips so maybe it wasn’t exactly like drooling, she supposed. Would it be as smoothly? Jon and Sarah kissed so well, they kissed like they’ve done it many times before and maybe they had.
For some strange reason that left a burning pit of annoyance boiling inside her tummy. Eventually they pulled apart, their breathing harsh and fast yet smiles were upon their lips. Again, she felt that jealousy of Sarah. Sansa tried to think of what it would feel like to kiss another boy, but the only boy that came to mind was Jon.
It had to be because of what she witnessed, Sansa thought as she turned away from the scene to gather her thoughts elsewhere. She just needed to get some fresh air and look about Winterfell’s grounds to see the other boys littering the castle and think about kissing them; that was all.
Still the thought of Jon and kissing persisted for the rest of her day and well into her dreams that night. Sansa woke in the morning from a beautiful and lovely dream of kissing Jon. She was nothing but a mess as she ate with her family later though, her face utterly red like a pomegranate and her eyes straying to Jon’s face during the whole ordeal. The poor boy kept looking at her concernedly, obviously wondering why she was staring at him and if she was sick.
Her Lady Mother pulled her aside to check her temperature with the back of her hand, frowning when she felt no fever though the redness continued to linger. Sansa barely managed to wave her mother off before running along to her lessons.
Even during her favored time of the day, sewing and embroidery, Sansa could not keep her thoughts at bay about Jon and kissing. She tried to picture any boy she came across in his stead, but the image of her cousin would not be covered or ignored. Jeyne had lightly tapped her arm to gain her attention as she licked her lips at the thought of going up to Jon and pressing her lips to his. What would he do if she did?
“Sansa,” Jeyne called quietly, poking her sharply in the ribs. Sansa squeaked at the poke, rubbing her rib as she directed her attention onto her best friend. “What are you thinking so hard about that has you distracted so?” Jeyne asked curiously.
Sansa quickly waved her off, giving a tight-lipped smile and thanking the Seven when Septa Mordane came over to inspect their embroidery. She had to do something about this whole ordeal and she needed to do it that day!
Arya pouted and moaned over sewing, throwing a temper-tantrum about wanting some fresh air while the day was nice. Seeing her sister about to be reprimanded for her ill behavior, she quickly joined in, if nothing else than to get out of there and find Jon. Jeyne joined in with Beth and finally Septa Mordane sighed-huffed was more like it and told them to go.
She didn’t waste a second, setting her circle down as gently as was expected of her and practically raced her sister out the door, leaving her friends in her dust. Sansa walked as quickly as she could without disrupting her ladylike form. Her eyes peered around, looking for the non-Stark that looked the most like a Stark.
It took asking Robb to learn that Jon had gone to the heart tree to pray to the Old Gods. Her brother arched an eyebrow in question. She knew how it looked, suddenly wanting to know where Jon was when normally she could care less. She ignored his look though, smiling as innocently as possible then abruptly taking off for the godswood.
Sansa intercepted Jon as he was leaving, skidding to a stop that ruffled her skirts and brought a flush to her cheeks. Her cousin opened his mouth in shock at her. It wasn’t something Sansa Stark would ever do as unladylike as she was acting.
“Jon, I need your help,” Sansa declared quickly, watching in mild fascination as his features changed from shock to concern.
“What is it you need of my help, my lady?” Jon asked formally, coming to stand before her then letting his eyes take in their surroundings as though he expected a surprise attack of some sort.
“I saw you, the other day, in the kennels,” she started, watching as his features changed again to surprise then a steady blankness that only Jon could ever produce. He swallowed visibly though, indicating to his unease.
“With the pups?” he further inquired, seeming to want to lead her off into another direction, but Sansa would not be deterred!
“With Sarah.” His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out, so he snapped it shut as his cheeks formed a pretty blush that made his long face more appealing in her eyes. When had Jon become so comely to her?
“Sarah and I were just talking,” Jon said shortly, crossing his arms over his chest defensively as he eyed her over. Sansa resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“You two were kissing,” she stated, crossing her arms as well. Jon started to chew on the inside of his cheek, looking more and more uncomfortable with the situation.
“And?” he questioned. She didn’t know why she found his defensiveness so amusing, but it was and so she couldn’t stop the giggle from rising out of her throat. “Sansa,” Jon sighed exasperated.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Jon! It’s just you act as though you are going to be in trouble.” His brow wrinkled in confusion.
“Aren’t I?”
“I’m not going to tattle on you,” Sansa mumbled, feeling a tad irked by his insinuation that she’d rat him out for kissing a girl. He was fifteen, almost a man full grown. What could she, a girl of ten and two do?
“Then why are you telling me this?” Sansa pursed her lips together as she thought about how best to ask him. She took in his shoulders slowly relaxing. Jon wasn’t one to beat around the bush, he tended to say things straight and without fail so she figured he’d appreciate the sentiment.
“I want you to kiss me like you did Sarah,” Sansa announced determinedly as Jon’s jaw unhinged. His mouth moved multiple times without a sound escaping his lips. Were they always so plump and distracting?
“W-What?” Jon managed to stutter out, his whole body going rigid again.
“You heard me the first time, Jon Snow.”
Jon sighed deeply, pulling one hand free to rub his forehead as he comprehended her demand. He then pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut tightly. “You do not know what you are asking, Sansa. Not to mention you are my cousin.” He seemed to stress the relation as he spoke.
“And?” she prompted him, shrugging her shoulders when he opened his eyes.
“And? And it isn’t appropriate! It isn’t proper! What has gotten into you?” Jon asked as he took a step back, his eyes trailing up and down her figure as though he was seeing her for the first time.
“I have thought of nothing for the last night and day but kissing you! In my dreams, during breakfast and even during my most favored of activities. Kissing you has consumed my entire thought process and so to get what has ‘gotten into me’ out, I must enact the very thing that consumes me.” Jon was giving her that clueless expression again, the one that said he heard but didn’t quite understand what he heard. Sighing, she stepped forward to place them chest to chest.
Jon swallowed again then stepped back from her. They continued this strange dance of prey and predator until his back hit the heart tree, thusly ending their dance. His eyes widen as she finally came to stand almost chest to chest and nose to nose. They were of similar height, Jon being a tad short for his age and Sansa being a tad tall for hers.
“I will ask you only once. Please, will you give me my first kiss, Jon?” Sansa’s heart rapidly thumped inside her chest, pitter-patting like it was ready to take off outside her body as she waited for his answer.
He’s going to say no, she thought sorrowfully, biting the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. What had she truly expected of him? Not once had she shown interest in him before now, why was it so hard for her to believe that invading his personal space and begging for a kiss would entrance him to do it? Maybe she wasn’t pretty enough for him? Maybe, just maybe he kissed Sarah because he liked her enough to want too.
Maybe Sansa wasn’t good enough for him?
Her breath hitched when his hand touched her cheek, lightly skimming his thumb over her cheekbone as he gazed into her eyes. His deep grey eyes were so dark that they appeared to be black, melting into his pupils. Sansa rested a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, her heart still pounding a nervous rhythm that mismatched the bated breath she held in anticipation. Jon didn’t have to lean down as much with her as he did with Sarah considering their matching heights.
Her bated breath was shaken from her as she noticed the way he glanced between her eyes and her lips, she couldn’t help but lick her lips, drawing his attention completely to them. The urge to say his name rolled over her tongue, echoing around her mouth for an escape. The words found freedom as they were spoken within a sigh into his lips.
Sansa’s hand clenched his shoulder, the sensation of his lips finally-finally touching hers was so much more amazing and beautiful than she could have imagined. His lips were plush to the touch, brushing her soft lips so lightly that it felt almost like a phantom kiss; like she was dreaming it up all along. She pressed forward for a firmer touch, gasping her satisfaction as he responded abruptly to her unspoken demand.
Jon’s lips started the strange language of kissing, merging and moving against her own as she had witnessed the other day. Tingles rippled through her skin, warming her chest and belly as they kissed. It was mind boggling for her, she was kissing someone, she had finally gotten her first kiss! The touch of Jon’s hand on the nape of her neck startled her causing another gasp into his mouth. He took advantage of it.
The tentative brush of his tongue on her bottom lip shocked her further. Her other hand started to comb through his unruly hair, tugging on the knotted strands to relay her surprise. She could feel the smile on his lips then his tongue was slipping past the barrier of her lips to stroke lightly against hers. The feeling was surreal and strange, Sansa wasn’t sure she liked it, yet it caused more warmth in her gut and she knew she liked that feeling.
Growing bold, she lifted her tongue to touch his with a hesitant caress that pulled a groan from his throat. Swiftly their lips merged together, molded as though they were perfectly meant for the other. His tongue tangled with hers, battling against her tongue in a war that excited and pleasured her. Sansa felt her chest press up against Jon’s as they kissed, his other hand trailing down her back to hold her to him.
It was amazing, it was wonderful, and it was beautiful. Sansa felt like she was in a song of her own as they kissed. She could practically hear the music playing in her ears, hear the lyrics of a song, her song-no, their song. She chased Jon’s tongue back into his mouth, relishing the taste of him while their tongues continued their war. Suddenly it felt hard to breathe, her breath stuttering through her nose before she pulled back to catch her breath.
Jon gasped loudly, breathing deeply as he took her in. Though she was out of breath she felt exhilarated by the kiss, a dizziness swirled around her head as she smiled softly at him. Then Jon leaned forward with intents to kiss her again, Sansa quickly closed her eyes, puckering her lips to accept his when she felt them elsewhere. His lips pressed tenderly to her forehead, lingering for a moment or two before he leaned back, giving her nape a squeeze.
“How was that?” Jon inquired.
“Beautiful,” she uttered quietly, feeling her breath slightly taken away by his sweet gesture. Why hadn’t she taken notice of her cousin sooner?
She supposed it was his bastard status that kept her away, their society looking poorly upon babes born out of wedlock. Sansa felt a pinch of shame in her chest, she had no right to judge him so when he could not control how he was born and from whom. She only wished these epiphanies had came to her before the incident she came upon.
“Thank you, Jon.” Her soft-spoken words made him smile brighter though he looked downward bashfully, rubbing the back of his head, mumbling, “You are welcome.”
There was a lightness between them, verging onto awkward. Jon excused himself quickly though, making his way from the godswood and leaving her behind. Sansa watched him walk away as the thought came to her: would he be willing to give her a second kiss?