Chapter Text
Strolling through the farmers' market on a Friday afternoon, picking up everything she felt like to make a meal from on the weekend was one of Arya's favorite things. And doing it on her day off, with her best friend who had left work early just to join her, talking about their weeks — that was all the better.
Like right now, explaining to him about her night out on Wednesday.
"It was like the worst date in the history of dating."
Gendry frowns at her.
"Really? Worse than when you ended up having to call me and Jon to get that creep to leave you alone?"
Arya chuckles, inspecting a zucchini from the stall and handling a couple of coins to the seller before placing it in the bag Gendry is carrying.
"Okay, it wasn't that bad but it was so dull I could have fallen asleep and considering how perceptive the dude was I doubt he would have even noticed it."
"I'm starting to feel bad for this guy," Gendry says as they move further along the stalls on the market.
"You always say that but I think you should feel bad for me. It's me who's going through all these horrible dates. And I'm the one who's your best friend so you should be on my side."
She considers some cheeses, noticing one she thinks will fit well with all her vegetables.
"You're the one agreeing to go to go out with all those people. Maybe you should just pick the people you date better," he tells her when she has paid for her cheese.
"It's not like I have a line of interesting people just waiting for me to date them."
"I think you have enough of them," Gendry says dryly "- hey, do you want some coffee?"
Arya nods and he asks for two cups from the truck that conveniently doesn't have a line right now. Arya pours some milk into her cup and places lids on both of the cups while Gendry pays.
"Maybe I just shouldn't bother anymore. I can resign into a life as a spinster," she says as they start walking again.
Gendry laughs at her, putting his arm around her shoulders.
"You're twenty-eight, I think you have a few years to go before you can be announced as a lost cause."
"Well you would say that, knowing how absurdly old you are yourself."
He shakes his head.
"Always so mean. That is why you are still single."
The bar is full and all her best friends are there and there are all these fast punky songs playing and then for a change some old pop song that has them all singing the lyrics they didn't even remember they still knew by heart. It's the perfect way to celebrate in Arya's opinion. No fancy parties or small talk or speeches – except for the one Rickon makes spontaneously, as he places the tray of shots on their table and clears his throat so he can remind everyone that his "old as hell" big sister has finally tricked some important people into giving her a doctor's licence so they really need to drink to that.
They drink until they are well and thoroughly hammered and they dance until they are sweaty and their feet hurt.
Arya doesn't know how long they've been there, she's lost in the music, in the middle of the crowd, when Gendry finds his way to her through all the people.
"Hey you!" she yells when he's close enough, throwing her arms around him, forcing him to start moving with her.
Gendry doesn't really dance, he never does, but Arya is moving with the music, swaying and bouncing and he just laughs at her and moves enough to make it seem like he's dancing along with her. It's actually more like he's just hugging her but whatever, close enough.
She pulls him down so she can speak directly to his ear — it's the only way he can hear her.
"I was starting to get worried you had left already."
"I can't let you walk back home on your own," he yells back. "Or did you find someone else to take you?"
He is teasing her, but he's so awfully cute she can't help holding him a little tighter.
"Why would I try to find someone else when I have you?"
He laughs and she laughs too just because they're drunk and it's past midnight and they are on the dance floor and she has finally gotten her licence and all her friends are there. And maybe especially because Gendry is there too, and he's the best friend she could ever ask for. He makes her feel happy and he makes her laugh like he always does and she's so glad he's with her on this occasion too.
"I can't believe we need to go to my parents' party tomorrow," she yells into his ear. "We're gonna be so dead tomorrow."
"We really should have thought of that before the second round of shots."
"But how much fun would that have been?" she laughs.
"I always told you you were going to be my demise," he tells her, picking her up and starting to twirl her around in the air even though the dance floor is definitely too crowded for that. And the only thing she can do is laugh uncontrollably, holding tight to him even after he puts her down.
They haven't been like this much lately, always tied up in their lives that have become alarmingly adult-like. Gendry's been working hard, trying to build up his career — rather successfully, one might add, and Arya's been tired from all the work required for graduating.
But this, goofing around in a full bar with no care in the world, this feels like them and there's no one in the world she'd want to share a moment like this rather than Gendry.
She pulls Gendry by the hand towards the door to her building.
"Come on, I'm drunk and I haven't had any luck in ages. The least I deserve is a cuddle," she tells him.
"I don't know why I have to make up for your inability to find someone you actually like."
"Ever consider it might be the other way around? Didn't you just say today I was too mean?"
"Yes, but you're still too pretty to be single if it's not for your pickiness."
He smiles at her, all mirth and teasing but with that warmth too, the same love she knows he has for her. That's just how he is, teasing her endlessly but never failing to make sure she knows how highly he thinks of her. There's this feeling of softness, safeness, something she can't quite place at the moment but it makes her feel so utterly happy, just the knowledge that she has someone like him.
"That is the cutest compliment mixed with an insult you've given me in a while. Now you definitely need to come and give me those cuddles."
He laughs at her once again, but he lets her pull himself inside just the same, closing her front door properly after she just stumbles in, picking her jacket up from the floor where she chucks it.
She pulls her shirt off on her way to the bathroom, throwing it in the direction of her chair.
Arya feels like she's halfway asleep when she climbs in the bed, but she still registers Gendry getting in next to her a minute later, snuggling closer so he can have some of the duvet. Contently she turns around, going for that cuddle that was promised and it feels wonderfully familiar when Gendry lifts his arm to wrap it around her when she settles against his chest.
She can feel the headache pounding on her temples before she even opens her eyes. She rubs her eyes, trying to shift into a position that would lessen the pain, already knowing that's not really possible. Her movement does inflict a reaction from Gendry though, as his arm around her tightens it's hold. And when he pulls her closer to him there's something else than the headache that gets her attention. It's Gendry, very obviously hard against her backside.
It must be her very hungover state and the fact that it's been a while since she's had sex, but the feeling of Gendry's hardness pressing her combined with the feeling of him, warm and sturdy and holding her closely, breathing in her hair, has her feeling a rush of arousement. Suddenly, she can feel her heartbeat between her legs and she needs to squeeze her eyes shut tighter to stop certain images from forming in her mind.
This bloody, bloody hangover is doing numbers on me, Arya thinks as she forces herself to turn to her back, separating her body from Gendry's slightly.
Her movement seems to awaken Gendry, as he scrunches up his face and then opens his eyes, a sleepy smile forming in his face as he meets her gaze.
"Morning," he says, his voice groggy.
"How can you even smile?"
"I think you were way worse off than I was last night," he tells her and she guesses it's probably true.
"Well that's just one more reason for you to be the one who makes the coffee."
He doesn't argue, just gets out of the bed and by the time Arya makes it into the kitchen there's a cup on the table, waiting for her.
She is still sitting there, having her second cup, when he pulls on his jacket and promises to be back in time to pick her up for her parents' party.
Gendry knocks on her door half an hour before they need to leave for dinner.
"I've just gotten over the hangover and now we need to get going again," Arya complains as she lets him in.
He gives her a once over, taking in her clearly unfinished appearance.
"You might want to brush that hair before we go."
"Shut up, I'm blaming you for all of today. It's your fault I'll be looking like shit at the dinner my parents are throwing me," she tells him. "Zip me."
Arya turns around, revealing the open back of her dress, letting Gendry pull up the zipper before she gets back to the bathroom and starts working on that hair.
"There's ice tea in the fridge if you want some."
She hears him move to the kitchen area.
"Pour some for me too, will you," she calls from the bathroom.
Once her hair is done Arya goes to get that drink. Gendry puts his glass down.
"I got you something," he tells her.
She looks at the little box he sets on the table and then at him, watching her. He gives her a nod and she opens the box, picking up the piece of jewelry inside.
It's impossible to hide the surprise and she thinks he notices it too.
"What's this?"
Gendry looks sheepish.
"I didn't really know what you'd like…"
Arya stops him, shaking her head, glancing back at the necklace in her hand.
"This is beautiful, Gendry. It looks old, where did you get it?"
"It was my mom's."
She stills, looking up at him.
"Gendry."
She doesn't know what to say and Gendry just runs his hand through his hair, shrugging.
"Do you want to try it?" he asks, and Arya mumbles a yes, opening the clasp and turning around, giving the ends of the chain to him so he can put them together.
"I'll go see how it is and get my stuff," she tells him without turning around, feeling like she needs a moment and leaves the room.
There's the feeling again, this something. It's there when she runs her fingers along the necklace - his mother's necklace - in her bedroom and she thinks it has something to do with how she felt this morning, waking up in Gendry's arms, and she has a feeling it was there in Gendry's eyes when he gave her the jewellery.
It's unsettling, making it hard to focus on getting ready. It's just there, a thought barely formed, something she knows she's thought of before but always pressed down, but it's hard to do that now.
No, she shakes it off as she checks herself in the bathroom mirror. He was just giving her a present, just being nice. And she must be just tired and it's the hangover making her emotional.
"Do I look alright?" she asks walking back in the kitchen. He turns to look at her properly, setting his glass to the counter. His eyes glide over her and he smiles.
"You're absolutely beautiful."
"You're just saying that because you want to get going," she says, rolling her eyes.
"No, I'm saying it because you are the most beautiful woman I know."
The sudden sincerity in his voice stops her on her tracks. He's told her many times that she looks good in some outfit or another or that she's pretty, but this doesn't feel the same. And suddenly, Arya feels unsure of herself.
"Yeah? You really think so?"
"I've always thought so," he mutters, looking at her carefully and it feels like there's a lot more meaning in his words than just saying he appreciates her appearance.
"Gendry…"
He's rubbing his temple, looking at her like he's asking for her approval, as if he's asking from her if he's allowed to say more. She offers him a small smile, holding her breath as she waits for him to say the words.
He doesn't say anything, just keeps his eyes fixed to hers as he moves closer to and leans down. She raises her face and he leans his forehead against hers.
They stay there, breathing the same air for a little while.
His eyes are closed when he finally speaks, with a voice so soft it feels like it is stroking her all over.
"You're the prettiest and the loveliest and the most amazing person I know."
His hands have come to hold her around her waist and hers are lingering somewhere on his abdomen, lightly grazing the fabric of his shirt as she moves them to his sides
It all makes her head spin and all she can think of doing is raising her face just a little bit closer to his and letting her lips brush against his in a slow, soft kiss.
Arya leans back down just a little bit, looking up at him as he finally opens his eyes, swallowing. She lets out a breath that's somehow very shaky, trying to find her voice to say something, trying to think of what one's supposed to say to their best friend after kissing them.
His phone peeps, letting them know their ride has arrived, and Arya's face turns inadvertently to the clock on her wall.
When she turns back, he has scrunched his eyes shut, his whole face tense, far from the wondrous way he was gazing at her just a moment ago.
"We need to go," she says quietly, and he nods, still keeping his eyes shut but starting to move away from her. But she keeps her hands on his sides, stilling his movement.
"Gendry," she pleads and he looks at her, insecure.
"We'll continue this later, okay?" she asks softly, pressing her hand to his forearm, brushing it gently and his face softens too as he nods, his eyes again holding some of that emotion they had before.
Arya grabs her purse, puts on her heels and pulls on her jacket, looking at Gendry as he pulls on his own.
She sits next to him in the car, not on the other window seat but right next to him, their sides pressed together. It feels impossible not to, like the idea of keeping that space between them is utterly ridiculous.
Gendry looks down at her, his eyes sliding towards the driver for a second as if he's considering whether it's the right place to say something or not and obviously deciding against it since he stays silent.
Instead, he raises his hand and his fingers trace the necklace.
"If it feels like it's too much you can have it back," Arya says carefully. "It's beautiful and I love it but if you feel like it's too much, that you want to keep it..."
He shakes his head, fingers still on the jewellery.
"No. It's perfect on you. And mom liked you, she would have liked you to have it. There's no point for me to keep all of them locked in a box."
"Sure?" she questions because she knows Gendry doesn't have a lot of her mum's old things saved up. He smiles as he nods.
"I'm sure."
He rarely speaks about his mom, rarely even mentions her, so Arya knows how much those words mean. She also knows it's true, she had liked Gendry's mom too, and that makes the gift even more special. She tells Gendry as much and it makes him smile again.
She moves her hand on his arm that's pressed between them and then, slowly, slides it to touch his palm, lacing their fingers together. It makes his face soften even more.
"You really look beautiful," he says and she knows it's not just another compliment but also a return to the conversation they were having, or were about to have in the kitchen before the car arrived.
Her face feels warm and she has to take her eyes away from his for a bit. It's just all so much, him looking at her like that, him, stroking her hand with his thumb, his voice so tender when he speaks to her, the necklace that she knows means a lot to him just because it was his mother's. But Gendry's earlier assessment feels right, this is not the place to talk it all through.
"Thank you," she whispers, hiding her face in his neck, and for now it feels like it's clear enough.
Arya only lets go of his hand when they walk inside the restaurant, going straight to her family and receiving congratulations and gifts as she settles down at the table. But still, through the night, her eyes keep finding Gendry's and her hand keeps lingering on his arm whenever she needs to get his attention. Every single time he meets her with that same tender smile — a small one, almost shy, but somehow simultaneously straightforward, intimate in a way that feels new. And then his hand hovers on the small of her back and it sends tingles all over her skin and she looks at him — and has another revelation about what all that intimacy could be.
But another family member starts talking to her and she needs to focus on normal conversation instead of this thing that's happening with her best friend.
They have moved on to the pub after the dinner, her parents making the exception of joining them for this special occasion, and Arya is talking with Bran by the bar when Sansa and Margaery sneak up on her.
"Is something going on between you and Gendry?"
"What?"
Sansa and Margaery give her the exact same pointed look with raised eyebrows that in another situation would have her making a comment about couples starting to look like each other but now just makes her shrug in an attempt to avoid answering them.
"Don't act like you don't know what we're talking about."
Arya turns to Bran for support, but she's in no luck as Bran just smiles in his typical vague way.
"Anyone would notice it."
"Just tell us. Are you guys together?" Sansa insists.
Arya sighs, giving up trying to get away from the conversation without an answer.
"It just happened, we haven't even talked about it," she explains.
Her eyes find Gendry's across the room. He's chatting with Jon and Robb at their table but he smiles at her and she just has to smile back.
"But I guess we are," she says, just because it seems pointless to pretend otherwise.
She almost misses Sansa and Margaery's 'oh's and Bran's knowing nodding, more focused on the realisation settling on her, and the excitement growing up from the pit of her stomach, making her nervous and lighthearted at the same time.
"Hey Arya," Jon says, coming to hug her. "We're leaving now, Ygritte's not feeling too well and she's getting tired."
"You kind of need to get used to that. Might not get better for a while."
"I guess so," Jon says but doesn't seem bothered in the least.
"Think you'll be having a long night?" he asks Arya.
"Nah. I think I'll stay for a little while longer but not too long."
She hugs Jon and waves her hand at Ygritte, already standing by the door, rubbing her swollen belly and looking like she's more than anxious to get out of there.
Jon walks away and Arya glances at Gendry, standing beside her, from the corner of her eye, thinking about what he just told Jon about going home soon.
"Will you come to my place?" she asks, suddenly feeling shy.
But the way he looks at her, his eyes seeming like they can't see anyone else, his smile only for her, she knows she hasn't got anything to worry about. He'll come with her and he'll stay as long as she wants him to and it's not about just tonight.
It's the two of them and they haven't even properly talked about what is happening but Arya just knows. And she's sure that Gendry knows it too.
They are best friends and they are them. There would not be anything happening between them if there wasn't everything happening.
It's not just about tonight and it's not just about sex — but she has the most exhilarating realisation that it will most definitely be about that too and that is just -
She needs to bite her lip not to make some inappropriate noise right there thinking about it.
Gendry takes her hand as soon as they are out of the immediate sight from the restaurant door. It feels natural, like it wasn't the first time but the norm in their interaction.
Arya has never really understood the saying of walking on clouds but that is the expression that best describes what she is feeling right now. The night air feels pleasantly warm and the dark city feels kind and if anyone around her is not feeling happy then she doesn't really notice it. All she can take note of is Gendry walking beside her and his thumb caressing her hand every once in a while and the warm and exhilarating thought that they are walking home together, to share the night together, to be together.
It's every single element in the world arranging themselves into place.
Her best friend is suddenly not only her best friend and she feels like she could just laugh or sing or jump about because it's all just perfect .
The nearer they get to her flat, the more Arya feels the mixture of excitement and nerves growing inside her and by the time they get in it feels impossible to wait a second longer.
She steps closer to Gendry, pulling him down so she can kiss him, in a way that is very much different to the slow, cautious brush of lips before the dinner. All those fleeting touches and subtle — or not so subtle, if her siblings are to be believed — looks during the evening seem to have done their trick and the cautiousness is all gone.
Gendry holds her flush against him, his hand wandering down to her hip.
"Should we talk?" Gendry mumbles against her lips, moving to kiss along her jaw.
She chuckles.
"Do you really want to talk now?"
And then Gendry's chuckling too, looking at her and she feels downright giddy as she looks at him and sees him grinning back at her.
"Not exactly," he says and that roughness in his voice seems to tingle in the pit of her stomach.
It's funny how just last night she didn't waste another second being bothered by the fact that he saw her half naked but now she can't help noticing how dark his eyes turn when she takes off her shirt and he sees all that bare skin. She watches him swallowing as he stares at her and when she moves closer to him again his touch has a new level of urgency in it and his fingers go to the clasp of her bra to open it.
Gendry bends down, his hands holding her waist as he licks her nipple before taking it in his mouth, one of his hands sliding down to hold the back of her thigh under her skirt as he moves his mouth to her other breast, kissing the underside of it before biting lightly on the nipple.
He opens the button of her skirt and slides the zipper down, letting the garment drop to the floor, his lips moving down on her body. But Arya pulls him back up to her, kissing his lips and sliding her hands to his chest.
It's hard to keep her hands from shaking as she starts opening the buttons of his shirt. The want is rushing through her and he seems to be in a similar state as his fingers work on his belt.
"We should probably get to the bed," she whispers and her voice sounds shaky. All Gendry does is nod.
But before Arya can properly lay down he grabs her thighs, pulls down her underwear and leans down between her legs and then his mouth is on her, kissing her lightly first but then more insistently. And he raises her other knee up and puts it over his shoulder, that alone making her breath hitch even before his lips are back on her.
She holds his head, burying her fingers in his hair as he moves his tongue in long shrides, pressing it firm on her and he's sucking her clit, his hands holding her hips tight. When she comes it's with a breathy moan, the rush of it feeling sudden even though she has felt it building up since the second they stepped into her flat.
Gendry lets her have a moment, pushing down his own jeans, reaching to get a condom from her night stand — because of course he knows where she keeps those — and moving to lay down next to her.
She looks at him and for a second she is worried this will be awkward. Because it's her best friend and he just had his head between her legs and she still has trouble calming her breathing, but then he leans closer to kiss her, just shortly, and it's enough to show her there's absolutely nothing that's awkward about this. So she slides her hand between them and wraps her fingers around him, finding him so hard already.
"Fuck," Gendry hisses, dropping his forehead on her shoulder, making a strangled sound against her skin.
Arya strokes him a couple of times, feeling as he huffs hard on her. She's making him as delirious as he just made her and she likes it. It's the same way she likes to make him laugh — but it's not the same at all. This is new and she's watching him, learning him, testing what he likes.
And she decides she can let Gendry know what she likes, too, so she pushes him on his back and slides on top of him, kissing him as she sits on top of his thighs, her hand still holding his shaft.
"Arya you're killing me here," Gendry breathes out, his eyes closed as he clearly tries to restrain himself.
"I am?" she questions, her voice like honey when she teases him.
The little breathy chuckle he lets out goes straight to her core, making her move her hips unconsciously.
"You really are mean."
It's Arya's turn to laugh and she rolls the condom on him before she bends down to kiss his lips lightly as she finally lifts her hips and lines the tip of his cock with her, rubbing it on her folds a few times before taking him in.
"But you said I'm still pretty," she reminds him.
His voice comes from somewhere deep in his throat as he speaks, it's so low it sends shivers down her spine.
"You are."
She leans back, placing her hands on his thighs behind her to balance herself, and she moves on him until all she hears is the air rushing in her ears and she has to hold his hands, settled on the top of her legs, just to have something to hold on to when the feeling becomes almost too much to bear.
It doesn't feel like an option to separate the next day. In fact, it doesn't even feel like they can get out of bed until it's noon and Arya is hungry and Gendry's head is hurting in a way that screams for coffee.
But Arya has promised to visit her parents house to see an old crib her mother has digged up from the attic and Arya has promised to fix up for Jon and Ygritte, so Gendry comes along on the excuse of giving her advice on how to best work on the crib. It's a lame excuse, but neither of them care. Her parents don't question it, so they don't bother explaining anything, they just set the crib on the back terrace and start working on it. And if they happen to smile at each other a little more than usual, or if they are more touchy than usual then that's just how it goes — not like they've kept much distance between them before, is it?
Arya really couldn't care less, she's just feeling way too happy to worry about anything today.
Later, as Arya helps her mother clean the table she can see Gendry working on the crib, his face insistent as he tries to get all of the old paint off from a difficult spot. She knows she's smiling like an idiot, and it feels stupid to keep it a secret anymore.
"So me and Gendry…" she starts but her mother merely huffs.
"I'm not blind."
Her mother just smiles at her.
"You look happy," Cat says and coming from her that is a lot.
"I am," Arya tells her mother, watching as Gendry stands up and straightens his back, stretching his arms above his head, trying very hard not to look like a lovesick teenager and knowing she's not fooling anyone.
Everyone else takes the news the same way her mother did, not really that surprised about it. Rickon throws some half-hearted joke about brothers defending their sisters' honor, Sansa claims it was "more like a matter of time" and Bran tells them they better not get any more annoying in company.
It seems the two of them are the only ones feeling any sort of surprise for the turn of events. But on the other hand, it kind of feels like no surprise at all. It's still her and Gendry, like they always were, just with another layer added up to it to make it feel new and exciting.
It's all good, so very good, and Arya doesn't bother worrying about moving too fast because that just seems like an absolutely ridiculous thing to worry about. It's not like they need to go out on dates and get to know each other, right?
They still stroll through the farmers' market when they can, they still eat pizza on her couch, watching movies, they still meet their friends in the pub. They just spend nearly every night in the same bed and wake up curled together.
Arya stops talking about life as a spinster. Gendry doesn't stop telling her he thinks she's beautiful.
Gendry is already sitting at the table when Arya hurries into the restaurant.
"They accepted me! They just called today about a fieldworker position!" she exlaims before she has even sat down.
She can't keep it in, she's too excited.
It takes Gendry a moment to realise what she is talking about, but then he seems to catch up.
"The Doctors without borders?"
Arya nods enthusiastically.
"Lhazar first," she tells him. "But I can apply for other gigs after that."
He's quiet for a little too long and she can see he's having a hard time finding words.
"That's great," he says finally. "It's what you wanted."
He's sweet, like he always is, and he's trying. She can see it, but she can also see how very far he is from feeling like it's actually great.
And that's when it really hits her, what this actually means.
She's leaving. She's leaving for a year at least, but the plan always was that she could stay longer, go to a different location after the first one.
She wanted to make a difference, to do something really important, help as many people as she can and learn at the same time, and a year is a short time for that. She has talked to other people, older people, who have done this, and many of them have spent five or ten years working in various places around the world, and that was always her plan —
She reaches for Gendry's hand and her eyes meet his.
"I…" she starts, but she doesn't know how to continue.
"You don't have to say anything," he says quietly. "I'm happy for you. This is what you always wanted."
It is. It really is.
But in all her time of planning it, this was never the situation. They were never together, and Gendry didn't look at her like she was breaking his heart and she didn't feel like she was breaking her own heart at the same time too.
And still he wouldn't be Gendry, her Gendry, if he didn't support her. He'd never ask her to give up her dream and that is one of the reasons she loves him so much.
So she just holds his hand as she tries to think of something to say.
"I'm sorry," she says finally, "You know I applied before we got together."
He nods.
She looks around the restaurant, not feeling like eating anymore. And they need to be somewhere more private, that's for certain.
"Let's go to my place, okay? We can get some takeaway if you want," she suggests.
"Sure."
Gendry is quiet as they walk home. Arya reaches for his hand, and his fingers entwine with her, his grip firm as it always is, and while they wait for the light to change to cross the street he lifts their hands up, kissing her palm. He's there, he's letting her know it, but he doesn't say a word.
It's a change. She knows he still loves her the same — she loves him the same, but it's not the same between them. The pink clouds around them have disappeared and everything is coated with the air of finality.
Arya starts getting ready to leave. She resigns from her job, rents out her flat and packs her stuff into boxes. She takes shots for exotic diseases, buys a headlamp and sorts through a pile of paperwork.
They still go to the pub, they still watch movies, they still sleep in the same bed every night. Gendry's there, he's always there, bringing her tea when one of the shots makes her shiver with a fever and rubbing a lotion on her arm when another one gives her a rash that itches so much she can't sleep. He helps her carry her boxes to his car and drives back and forth five times to take all of it to her parents' house.
Arya finds herself waking up nearly every night, unable to sleep, just holding her palm against his warm skin, watching him sleep.
"How are you and Gendry?" Sansa asks Arya as they stretch their legs after their jog. It seems her leaving has sinked in and Sansa has been asking her to spend more and more time together lately. And Arya has mostly obliged her, knowing she'll miss her sister.
She sighs.
"You should have seen him when I told him."
Sansa looks at her, understanding.
"Well, you can't really blame him, can you?"
"No, I can't," she admits. She switches the leg she's stretching, deciding Sansa is the one she'll ask the question that's been swirling in her mind ever since she told Gendry about the job.
"Be honest with me, do you think I should just stay here and be with him?"
"Do you want to stay?" Sansa counters.
"I want to be with him."
Sansa nods.
"And how would you feel about not going? How would you feel about it in, say, ten years?"
She looks out to the park. She knows the answer, she's known it all along and that's the problem.
"I think I would regret not going. It's my dream and if I don't go — I'd just keep thinking about it, get bitter."
"Well then you need to go, isn't that it?"
"But being with Gendry is my dream too."
It's something she might have had trouble admitting before, she's always wanted to be so independent. And she might not have realised until recently just how important her best friend is to her, but it's so obvious now.
"You don't have to break up with him. You can still be together," Sansa argues.
"No we can't. I can't do that to him, it's not fair when I don't even know when I'm coming back and I might be away for long. I can't just expect him to wait for me. And I don't know if I could do it either, the whole long distance thing."
"And what does Gendry say about it?" Sansa asks.
Arya shrugs.
"I think he agrees."
"You think? Have you actually asked him?"
"He hasn't really been eager to talk lately."
Sansa sighs.
"You need to talk, you know that?"
Yes, she does, but she puts it off, once again, and tells Sansa she thinks they deserve huge coffees after their jog
But the time to talk does come eventually, there's no escaping it and one night after they've eaten dinner Arya decides it's time.
"Hey Gendry," she starts cautiously. She's been putting off this conversation for too long already, she knows it. But it also feels like a pointless conversation to have in the first place since they both know the outcome. Arya feels like it's been evident since the second she told Gendry she'd be going.
But now he's looking at her, waiting for her to continue.
"I just thought, well, we haven't actually talked about us."
Gendry lets out a long breath and she thinks he's probably been dreading this talk too.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I guess my leaving means we won't be, you know — " she doesn't want to say it. No, she can't say it. And the quick look into Gendry's eyes, already so pained, because of course he knows what she's about to say, what she doesn't want to say. But she closes her eyes and forces herself to say it anyway.
"— that we won't be together anymore."
"I don't want to break up with you, Arya," he says quietly and when she opens her eyes he's bent down and shaking his head.
"You don't want to just wait for me either, not when we don't even know when I'll be back."
She tries to say it as softly as she can, but it doesn't sound any better that way.
"I'm going, I'm doing what I dreamed about and you need to live your life and move on with everything and if you meet someone, you need to be able to have fun without feeling guilty and fall in love with them if you feel like it."
"But I don't want to move on, I don't want to fall in love with someone else," he tells her, his voice strained, like he's on the verge of crying.
"And what will you do, just wait for me for however long I might be gone for? You'll just not be with anyone for years? That's not…" she throws her hands in the air, shaking her head.
"You can't do that, and I can't do that to you. And I can't do that either. I'd just feel like I'd need to come home as fast as I can and I'd feel guilty for being away and we'd both end up being bitter."
She sees it in his face that he knows she's right. He just doesn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He doesn't want to face the fact that this is inevitably coming to an end and there's nothing they can do about it.
"I just want to be with you," he whispers.
Her tears are falling freely by now and it takes her a moment to calm her breathing enough to speak. She wipes her eyes so she can see him at least and swallows.
"I love you so much."
Gendry will never ask her to give up her dreams, not this one, not any of them. And she wouldn't ask him. He has always accepted her as she is, liked her for what she is. Ironically the thing he loves her for is the thing that breaks them.
It feels impossible to let go a second earlier than strictly necessary. They might be breaking up technically but they won't actually do that. They'll be as close as they can for as long as they can, holding on tight. If anything, they just stay closer to each other those last few weeks before Arya needs to leave.
The last day is a quiet one, both of them reluctant to keep any more space between them than is absolutely necessary. They do every chore together, cooking breakfast side by side, showering together.
They go to her parents for lunch but don't stay for long, too restless for polite conversation, too much in need of time alone. At home, they just settle on the bed, quietly.
Gendry holds her close, his lips leaving lazy kisses on her neck and his hand flat on her stomach, his fingers curling on her skin just enough to send tingles through her entire body. She can feel him half hard as she pushes her backside against him.
Without a word Arya moves his hand down, sliding it under the waistband of her underwear and lower, holding it there as she starts to move against it.
She keeps his fingers pressed firm on her as she moves, long swigs of her hip back and forth, getting faster, more impatient.
"Take my knickers off," she chokes out when it feels like she just can't take it anymore, that she needs to have more .
Gendry obeys her and his hands leave her for a moment but then he returns, holding her hip with one hand as he settles behind her.
He rubs his length against her folds a couple of times, maddening, making her breath catch, before he slides inside.
"On top of me" she whispers, turning on her stomach and feeling him do as she asked, starting to move above her.
The thought of leaving creeps into her mind uninvited, threatening to drown out every other thought. Arya knows he needs both his arms to hold himself up so she slides her own hand under herself, pressing it on her clit, focusing on it, forcing away the dread. His weight on top of her is like a safe blanket, keeping her in one place as the pleasure pushes other thoughts away for a moment.
The light moves slowly across the wall, making the shadows change shape. The colour of the light changes from pale yellows to pinkish and then orange.
Gendry's hand lingers on the bare skin of her back. It feels like they have been lying there for ages, just breathing, both lost in their own thoughts but still together.
Arya shifts her head to lay it closer to the middle of his chest. She can hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. Just like he is.
"Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, will you?" Gendry asks, breaking the calm of the moment and causing a lump to immediately form in her throat.
She nods, kissing his skin and closing her eyes, trying to fight back the tears and failing.
As the car moves closer to the airport, buildings and trees and parks passing behind the window, Arya can't help the sense of dread growing bigger and bigger by the minute. Every metre they drive brings them closer to the inevitable moment of goodbye.
The closer they get, the less she can think of anything to say.
Gendry is quiet too, his hands unmoving on the steering wheel.
They've said it all already. They've told each other over and over again, whispered words of love so many times it's impossible to count.
And no amount of words can make a change. It's been so clear from the start how they both feel and what will happen, despite all that love. She's leaving and he's staying and there's really nothing more to it.
Nothing in the busy atmosphere of the airport feels like it fits the way she is feeling inside.
She should be nervous about where she's going, excited about everything she's going to see, maybe looking for more books or magazines to entertain her during the long flight or buying something that will help her sleep through it. But all Arya feels is the tightness in her chest, the feeling of suffocating as she looks at Gendry, as she places her hand on his side and feels the warmth of him through his clothes.
Reluctantly, Arya steps in the line, puts her bag on the belt and walks through the security gate, turning around in the last second to catch a final glimpse of Gendry.
He's still standing there and his face seems frozen in the same expression.
She turns around, desperately swallowing down tears. But it's no use, her face is wet and she can't brush it all away fast enough. It's clouding her vision, forcing her to stop to stand near a wall so she won't stumble into anything or anyone, waiting until it feels there are no tears to cry anymore and her legs can carry her towards the right gate.