Chapter Text
When she came home one night to find Jaime lying on her couch with a tiny tortoiseshell kitten on his chest, Brienne was surprised but not displeased.
Jaime was unusually quiet as he lay there, watching her take off her coat, set aside her work bag and slip off her shoes. Usually when men stared it was with revulsion or disdain on their faces, but Jaime just seemed to take her in with a warm curiosity. “This is Lann,” he finally said, turning his attention back to the kitten and stroking its little head with one finger.
“He’s very sweet. And clever, to have found you.” Brienne was no expert, but the kitten looked possibly too young to be away from its mother. Its entire body would fit in his hand, it was so small.
Jaime’s faint smile told her she’d correctly guessed the name’s origins. “I found him hiding under a trash can in the park. I looked around for his mom but he was all alone.”
Oh, Jaime. Brienne sat on the edge of the couch, her hip snug against his thigh. “Do you go to the park often?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes. Do you?” His gaze left the kitten and traveled up to her face again. The lack of judgment there made it no easier to bear. His eyes were very green, luminous in the lamplight.
She shook her head. “No. Does it help? Going there?” Brienne doubted it. Her trauma was much less than his, and being there made her chest tight and her fingers tingly. Panic clawed up her throat within steps of entering the park the few times she’d tried to master her fear. She’d finally given herself permission to wait and not force it just yet.
Jaime shrugged again. “I remembered Cersei dumping me.” He glanced at the kitten and curled his hand protectively around its small back. “Do you think he’s a real cat or like me?”
Brienne’s heart ached for him. She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t been able to resist an abandoned kitten, even one so scruffy and oddly-colored as this one. One side of its small face was black, and the other sported a mix of ginger and white fur. The colors fought over the rest of the small body, light refusing to yield to the dark, as if he’d started out black and rolled about in white and ginger until he was well muddled. Brienne reached out and gently took the cat from Jaime, carefully inspecting the little body in her palm. “I think there are thousands of ordinary cats in this city, and only one you. She’s a cat, and she needs to see a vet.”
Jaime’s brow furrowed. “She?”
“I think so. Come on, I think my vet has evening hours tonight.” They were out the door in a few minutes, the kitten tucked inside Jaime’s hoodie sweatshirt for warmth.
Jaime unsurprisingly loathed the vet. He stood in the corner of the waiting room eyeing it all with deep suspicion, and he was practically vibrating when they went into the exam room. His nerves didn’t help Lann the Clever calm down, so Brienne took her from him when the vet came in.
He sold them some kitten formula and a bottle, and mushy kitten food, and told them to bring Lann the Clever back in two weeks for vaccinations if she survived. Jaime did not like that and fussed and grumbled all the way to the pet store he insisted on going to. Lann had a little blue collar and a name tag and a cozy little bed before they left the store.
Somehow they all ended up back at Brienne’s apartment. Jaime’s building didn’t allow pets, apparently, though he insisted that Lann was small enough to pass unnoticed until he could arrange an exception being made for her. If anyone had ever needed an emotional support animal, it was Jaime.
Leo’s dishes came back out, though Lann could swim in the water dish and had no need for the food dish yet. It shouldn’t have affected Brienne at all to watch Jaime patiently and awkwardly feeding Lann from a bottle, but it did. He had no instinct for the mindless baby talk many people directed at their pets. Brienne had been guilty of it a time or two. Jaime talked as if he expected the kitten to answer.
“Look at your face,” he chided, but his expression was soft as he looked down at the kitten’s formula-smeared mouth. “I’ll have to change your name. Not clever at all to spill your milk. Do you want to be Garth the Gross?”
Brienne, by then ensconced on a nearby chair sipping tea, protested, “You’re not calling her Garth. She’s just a baby.”
Jaime smiled as he looked at her. He was sprawled across the couch again, his bare feet hanging over the edge, and wearing one of her shirts since the kitten had peed on him not long ago. “You teach her some manners then. She doesn’t listen to me.”
Lann made a tiny little mew at that, the bottle slightly too far from her mouth to reach.
Brienne finished her tea and rose with a yawn, determined to put away her mug before she fell asleep right there in her living room. “You’re doing just fine,” she insisted, and came over to lean down and stroke the kitten’s soft fur before heading to the kitchen.
Except Jaime was right there, and somehow their faces were very close and before she could say or do anything, his lips were on hers.
Brienne’s hand fell to his chest, not pulling him close or pushing him away, just holding them both steady. His mouth was warm, his lips soft as they moved over hers, his beard tickling her chin and upper lip. Jaime was definitely kissing her, his heart hammering under her palm. Not a friendly peck or accidental brush of lips, but more exploratory than lustful.
They were both tired, surely that was why Brienne kissed him back. She could not remind herself that Jaime clung to her out of confusion and trauma, could not tell herself that she should not take advantage of his vulnerability, when his free hand came up to cup her cheek. Jaime stretched up to bring them closer, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips.
Tiny knives pierced her arm. Brienne jerked back with a startled cry. Lann’s bottle had fallen to one side, and the kitten had climbed Jaime’s shirt and now stood there between them, meowing pitifully, her sharp little claws drawing bloody welts on Brienne’s arm.
“Brienne,” Jaime started, eyes darting between the two of them as he tried to get the bottle back in the kitten’s mouth while still looking at Brienne.
“I’m fine. You deal with her,” Brienne insisted, and escaped to the kitchen to put away her empty mug. Washing up and filling the dishwasher didn’t exactly help, as she could feel Jaime’s gaze on her back.
She hurried to the bathroom and quickly smeared antiseptic over the scratches and bandaged them. She remembered well the vet’s admonishment that strays could carry all sorts of nasty bacteria and illnesses.
She might have hesitated in the bathroom, sat on the toilet for a few minutes even though she didn’t need to use it, washed her hands longer than necessary. But at least when she walked back into the living room, keeping the chair between them, she felt slightly more in control. She had a plan—not to talk about this right now, and maybe never. “It’s late. I should go to bed.”
Jaime was still on the couch, the kitten curled up on his chest fast asleep. He glanced at the door, then back at her. “If you want me to go, just say so.” There was something brittle in his voice, a hard set to his jaw.
“I don’t,” she blurted out, but couldn’t force the words out to explain why. She missed Leo, and saw him in Jaime at times. That was obvious, and understandable. What was embarrassing was how swiftly and deeply she’d grown to care for Jaime. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever met, and Brienne could not deny her weakness for men far out of her league. But if it was just attraction, Brienne could have resisted. She’d done it before. Jaime was more than a pretty face and sculpted body. There was something magnetic about him. No matter how sharp his tongue, no matter how irritating he could be, she still wanted him around. “I don’t understand why you want to be here.”
Jaime cocked his head just a little, regarding her, seeming to size up whether she really meant what she said. “This feels like home. You feel like home.”
Brienne looked away, her face heating. How did he slice to the heart of it so easily? She’d been flailing for weeks trying to understand it. “You don’t have to … kiss me to stay here,” she said softly. Just putting it into words made her cringe.
He sat up a little straighter. “You started it.”
“I was just trying to pet the cat!” Brienne’s face was scalding hot now, embarrassment rendering her a blotchy mess. She’d seen it too many times in the mirror to pretend she blushed prettily.
Jaime’s shoulders sagged. “So you didn’t want to kiss me?”
“Did you want to kiss me?” She could hear the challenge in her voice, daring him to lie. For all his faults, that was something he had not done. All she wanted was an honest answer.
“Yes.” He didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. “If you’d stop running away, I’d do it again.”
“Why?” Brienne wanted to cram the word back into her mouth. “Don’t—don’t answer that.”
“Brienne, stop.” Jaime didn’t raise his voice, but the words still held authority somehow. He got up carefully and walked over to the cat bed in the corner to nestle little Lann inside.
When he straightened and turned back to face her, Jaime seemed less certain of himself. “I don’t feel like me anymore when I’m in my condo, at work, or with my family. It’s like wearing outgrown shoes. I didn’t even notice how badly I fit in my life until I was here and had to go back. I’m constantly aware that I’m not doing and saying what they expect. That I’m not making their lives easier, like I used to. I make them uncomfortable. I’m uncomfortable, and I start second-guessing everything I do. When I’m here, I feel right. I can breathe.”
With every word, Brienne’s heart ached for him, but she had to swallow her own bitter disappointment. He was still chasing the feeling of home from when Leo lived here. That’s all this was. “I told you,” she said tightly, hurt closing her throat and making her eyes hot. “You don’t need to put on an act for me.”
Jaime rolled his eyes. “Who’s acting? Come on.” He growled a little, low in his throat. “Look, it’s late, we’re both tired. Can I just sleep here tonight, and we can fight about this in the morning?”
Brienne only thought about it for a moment. She’d take this reprieve, however long it lasted. If she was lucky he’d be gone when she woke, and they could pretend this never happened. “I’ll get you some blankets.”
Jaime shook his head. “No, I want to sleep with you.” He raised a hand to forestall her objection. “Just sleep, I swear.”
Brienne hesitated. This was a mistake. She was just enabling him. But his green eyes were watching her with such open hope she couldn’t say no. She sighed. “Bring the cat.”
Jaime smiled a broad Cheshire Cat grin and Brienne felt very much like Alys, transported to another world where impossible things happened.
She did her best to ignore him as he trailed behind her carrying the kitten on her fuzzy little cat bed like a tiny queen. He was difficult to ignore, as always. His presence filled the room. The bed loomed large in front of her. They’d shared it before, it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it felt like a big deal.
She tried to quiet the butterflies in her stomach, tried to tell herself it meant nothing. Focus on the practical. He would need something to sleep in. Brienne pawed through her drawers and found a pair of old sweatpants and handed them back to him before grabbing her own pajamas and bolting for the bathroom. Normally Brienne didn’t give a second thought to what she slept in, but the unforgiving light of the bathroom made it hard to overlook how thin and stretched out her ancient sleepshirt was. A glance down reminded her that it also barely reached mid-thigh. She should’ve grabbed her own sweatpants, but it was too late now and she’d have to dig them out of the hamper anyway. She hadn’t had time to do laundry this week.
Walking out of the bedroom was almost impossible. He’d seen her in much more compromising positions, but even so, that was Leo. That was different. And there was no telling how much he remembered. Hopefully very little. But she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked out of the bathroom as if nothing was wrong. As if finding Jaime shirtless in her sweatpants didn’t knock the wind right out of her.
He was sprawled on the right side of the bed, the kitten safely stowed in her little bed on the floor nearby. Did he remember sleeping on that side as Leo? Was he just guessing? He was watching her, gaze drifting down her legs.
Brienne’s hands went to the hem of her shirt, yanking it down as far as it would go, but it was no use. She hurried across the room and awkwardly clambered into bed, praying to the Mother that she hadn’t flashed him her panties.
He was still watching here intently, so Brienne rolled away from him to turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
“If it helps, I’ve seen you far more naked.” His voice floated out of the black, too close. “I mean, I was very short and you were basically a mountain, but I do remember you.”
Heat suffused her skin again, but she tried to keep the hurt from her voice. “Maybe try not telling women they’re craggy and massive.”
“I never said craggy!” Jaime protested. He turned to face her, wriggling closer. His voice dropped to a low growl. “You were impressive.”
And he was still just as gorgeous as ever, his scars already starting to fade. It wasn’t fair. “Not impressive enough to make you listen to me,” she grumbled. Often it had seemed that Leo went out of his way to thwart her.
Jaime chuckled softly, warm and inviting in the dimness. “In my defense, I didn’t always understand the Common Tongue.”
“If you say so.” Brienne had never blamed Leo for his very feline displays of temper, but it felt different now knowing a human intelligence lurked behind those green eyes.
A more comfortable silence settled over them, but it didn’t last. Just as Brienne was starting to drift off, Jaime spoke again.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.”
No, of course not. She’d never met a woman quite like her either. Maybe that would have made things easier for her over the years. Friendships had been hard to come by, and never seemed to last longer than the job or class they shared. “I’m nothing special.”
The blankets shifted and Jaime’s hand was on her arm. “Brienne, you have no idea—” He made a quiet, frustrated noise. “You would have hated me. Before. If I walked past some boys kicking around a cat, I don’t know that I would have stopped. If I was on my phone, I might not have even noticed.”
“I'm sure you would—” Brienne started to assure him, but he squeezed her arm to cut her off.
“I was a bastard. I did things—”
From the dark, a weak cry interrupted him. Jaime pulled away and was gone in a flurry of bedding. She heard the thump of his knees hitting the floor, and the pathetic crying stopped. He found his way out of the room without turning on a light. He was talking to the cat, soft words Brienne couldn’t quite make out. She assumed a bottle was involved.
Brienne drifted a bit in the quiet, dozing but awake enough to notice Jaime shuffling back in, stopping in the bathroom, and coming back to bed.
He plopped a suspiciously furry little lump between them. The kitten wriggled around until she was against Brienne’s side. Jaime got under the covers this time.
“It’s hard to take your bastardy seriously when you’re bottle feeding a kitten you rescued from the trash.”
“Don’t listen to her,” he grumbled, reaching out to scratch the kitten’s tiny head. “You weren’t actually in the trash.”
“If she pees in the bed, you’re washing the sheets,” she chided, trying to sound stern and failing miserably.
Her treasonous eyes were adjusting to the darkness, making Jaime’s smile visible to her. “I love you.”
I love you too almost tripped off her tongue, which was insane. He didn’t mean anything by it. Of course he didn’t. “What?”
Jaime hesitated. “I love you.” It came out stronger the second time, like he was convincing himself.
What was she supposed to do with that? He was emotionally needy, and beautiful, and imprinting on her like the kitten he’d saved. “You’re very easy to love,” she answered, hoping he wouldn’t notice the misdirection. “Especially now that you don’t make a hobby of shredding my couch.”
Jaime chuckled in response, but the tightness in Brienne’s chest remained. No one, aside from her father, had ever said he loved her. And now Jaime had said it twice. How could he just blurt it out so easily? Had his love never been rejected? Brienne’s had, stomped flat twice in her youth by boys who continued to mock her long after they’d dashed all her hopes. She hadn’t even loved them, that was the worst part. The one she’d loved before, she’d been smart enough never to reveal her affections. He hadn’t loved her either. No one had ever pursued her, not honestly. He had to have another reason for saying this.
“Jaime, are you hiding here?” Work wasn’t going well for him, and his family couldn’t understand his ongoing issues when he refused to tell them the truth. She’d wanted to ask him about this ever since he started coming around again, but the time was never right. It was easier to talk in the dark, where Jaime was a mere suggestion in the shadows, white teeth and the shine of his eyes, weak moonlight falling along the line of his arm and down his side.
“No. They could find me if they wanted to.” He didn’t need to tell her who. Jaime’s brother was in Essos, but his father and sister still snapped their fingers and commanded his presence more often than Brienne liked. If they’d shown any concern for Jaime, she might not despise them so much. “I do love you,” he added, natural as breathing now. “I trust you.”
That was harder to dismiss. Trust was not something Brienne took lightly. “Well, I took care of you for a long time. It’s natural you’d feel that way.”
Jaime got up on one elbow, peering down at her curiously. “You really don’t believe me, do you?”
She didn’t like being the object of his scrutiny. “You believe it.”
He frowned. “But you don’t. Why not?”
Talking about this in bed was incredibly awkward. Jaime’s bare chest gleamed in what little moonlight passed through a gap in her curtains, and this close she could smell him, a warm, masculine mix of sandalwood and something green. She averted her eyes, looked up at the ceiling as she answered. “You’ve been through a lot, and I’m the only one you can talk to. That’s a bond we’ll always have. But is that love? You hardly know me.”
“Hardly know you? Are you serious?” He leaned closer to study her face, and Brienne couldn’t resist looking at him. His eyes widened. “You are. Huh. Wow.” Jaime flopped back on the bed, and gathered Lann onto his chest, stroking her back gently. “I bet I know you better than anyone outside your family.”
So he’d noticed that she didn’t have close friends. That wasn’t exactly a state secret. Her loyalty and effort had never been rewarded in her youth, and after awhile she’d stopped trying. It was easier on her own. And it would be easy to prove Jaime wrong. “Where did I go to college?” He wouldn’t find the answer in this apartment. She wasn’t one of those people who remained slavishly loyal to the place. It was a means to an end, and held no real fond memories.
“No clue.” Jaime turned his head to look at her. “What’s next? Favorite color?”
“You’re the one who said you knew me,” she pointed out.
“Yeah. I know that you’re kind, and honest to a fault, and your humor is so dry most people probably don’t even notice it. You’re quiet, you stay in the background, probably because people say shitty things to you and then say it was a joke if you get upset. You don’t seem to have any friends, which is their loss, because you have more love to give than anyone I’ve met in my entire life.” He didn’t intend this to wound, but she felt flayed by every word Jaime spoke.
“So I’m the lonely loser?”
Jaime sat up, the kitten cradled in one hand. His eyes flashed in the dimness. “That’s right, Brienne. Push me away.” He clambered out of bed, snuggling Lann back in her bed. He came back to the foot of the bed, towering over her. “I’ll leave if you want, and never come back.”
Why did she keep thinking of him as a kitten, docile and dependent? He wasn’t. Even as a cat he was demanding and possessive. “No. I just…. I don’t know how to do this.”
Jaime rolled his eyes and got back in bed, lying on his side watching her. “Nothing in my entire life feels right anymore.” He moved closer, his feet tangling with hers, and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Except you.”
It was so corny she had to smile. “I bet you tell all the girls that.”
Jaime smiled back. “Only the ones with eyes like the sky.”
Brienne snickered at that. “Does that work on women?” It was working on her, just a little, against her better judgement.
“I don’t know. I never did date much.” He actually sounded a little embarrassed.
“But you always had some woman on your arm at events,” Brienne countered. She’d done some digging into his past, in the end. Not enough to be creepy, she hoped, but enough to assure her father that Jaime wasn’t a serial killer. He’d been surprised to hear that a man was hanging around her apartment, especially since Brienne hadn’t been able to explain his presence very well. She’d lied and said they met in the park, which had rung alarm bells for Selwyn Tarth. He still thought King’s Landing was a nest of vipers, which it was, and rife with violent crime, which it really wasn’t anymore.
Jaime stretched and tucked the blankets around himself more securely. “My father has many business associates, and quite a lot of them have daughters. I can be polite for a photo op and a meal, I’m not that big of an asshole.” He considered a moment. “I was a well-dressed bobblehead.”
She turned toward him, barely stifling a laugh. “And now?”
A sly grin curved his lips, and he ducked his head and butted it against her shoulder, rubbed his scruffy face against her neck. “Maybe still a cat.”
Brienne squirmed as his beard tickled her. “A big, noisy cat,” she grumbled.
Jaime nipped at her throat, and she gasped. “A lion,” he agreed with a purr.
Brienne meant to shove him back, but her hand gripped his shoulder instead. Slid around to his back, tracing the muscles there and drawing him closer.
His lips settled against her throat. His hand rested on her hip, and he made a soft, contented noise. “I missed this.”
She hummed in response. Of course she missed the cozy contentment she’d felt when Leo cuddled with her in bed, but this was entirely different. Jaime was not a pet. Everything between them was infinitely more complicated now. She let her hand drift up to the nape of his neck, teasing the fine hairs there.
She should say something. “Jaime, I …” Her courage was already waning and in a moment it would be gone entirely. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Careful,” he teased. “Keep gushing like that and I’ll think you like me.”
“I do. You know I do.” Words didn’t seem enough, so Brienne wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.
Jaime’s hand curled around the base of her skull. “I did catch you checking out my ass at the pet store.”
Brienne snorted a laugh. “I did not.”
“Whatever you say, kitten.” He snuggled in even closer, his legs tangled up with hers. It was far too comfortable.
“Kitten?” She heard the horror in her voice and yet it still wasn’t enough. “Nope. Go to sleep, before you talk me right out of whatever this is.”
Jaime chuckled, but obediently settled in, tucked tightly against her in a way that should have felt suffocating. Brienne was not a cuddler by nature. She hadn’t even really wanted it from Leo at first, but given how little affection he showed initially, Brienne had been hesitant to reject him. Perhaps Leo had worn her down, because Jaime’s warmth was more than welcome. It felt right.
Jaime’s building, would not, in fact, make an exception for Lann, not even when Jaime claimed she was an emotional support animal. No amount of Lannister gold would sway the building manager or the doormen to look the other way. So Lann became a permanent resident of Brienne’s apartment, and Jaime seemed to come along with the kitten.
It happened slowly: a T-shirt left in a drawer, a toothbrush by the sink, running clothes in her hamper and his laptop charging on the kitchen counter. Brienne saw it happening, but each night she climbed into bed and could not bring herself to confront him when he climbed in beside her. Within two weeks he was only stopping by his apartment for changes of clothes every few days. Brienne’s closet was tiny and barely fit her clothes much less his as well.
So every morning she woke up to a kitten not so tenderly batting at her face, and Jaime curled up behind her like spoons in a drawer. He would press his lips to her shoulder, or nuzzle the back of her neck, soft and undemanding, and then scramble out of bed and rush to the bathroom to get the first shower. But then he would smile and hand her a steaming cup of coffee, and all was forgiven.
Jaime had a job, technically, and sometimes he even threw on an insanely well-tailored suit and actually went to work. His last trip, a week “pacifying the Riverlands,” as he put it, saw him mediating disputes between various Lannister subsidiaries and overseeing the takeover of new acquisitions. But he was, after all, the son of the CEO and could usually work remotely. If he took video calls on Brienne’s couch with a cat in his lap, no one would dare complain.
He was cooking dinner, struggling to follow along with a cooking show on his phone, the first time she intentionally kissed him. He’d just returned from his trip and Brienne had missed him far more than she’d expected. The food burned and they ate takeout on the couch, smiling every time they snuck glances at each other. When the food was gone and the dishes washed, they spent hours on the couch kissing and touching like teenagers. Brienne was distracted all the next day at work, blushing every time he texted silly emojis or sent her pictures of Lann sleeping in strange positions and locations all over the apartment.
Bedtime got more interesting after that, much to Lann’s irritation. First she stared at them from uncomfortably close, occasionally trying to get between them. After a few nights, as long as there was a free pillow somewhere on the bed, out of range of wandering limbs, she mostly ignored them. Mostly. If Brienne got too loud, Lann would voice her displeasure and find somewhere quiet to be. Sometimes Brienne was loud just to get Lann to stop staring.
After the third time her father called and Jaime answered the phone, Brienne had to admit they were living together. “In that tiny apartment?” her father asked. It hadn’t even occurred to Brienne to move out of the apartment where Jaime was Leo. But while Leo had fit into her life and her home easily, Jaime did not. Most of his things were still at his place because there just wasn’t room for them in her apartment.
Jaime’s status as a perpetual houseguest complicated things. One night they had a fight and, rather than talk it out, Jaime left in a huff, spending the night at his condo. He could complain about his family, but if Brienne said anything negative about them, Jaime’s hackles rose and he defended them vehemently, no matter how awfully they’d treated him. He came back the next day, but the distance and defensiveness took days to wear off.
Maybe the apartment and its memories of Leo were keeping them together. She knew him in a way no one else ever could. There was an appeal to that, maybe enough to draw him into her bed. It wasn’t as if he’d taken one look at her and been overcome with lust for her. They’d fallen together slowly, drawn together by affection and trauma before any real heat sparked between them. Would their attraction burn out without constant reminders of the bond they shared?
And once that thought crept in, she couldn’t shake it. She started looking at apartment listings during lunch and while riding the subway. It only took four days to find the perfect apartment: closer to her office, pet-friendly, spacious and bright, with plenty of closet space and a view of the Blackwater Rush. She might even be able to afford it alone, if she dropped her gym membership and stopped buying her lunches.
When she got home, Jaime was lounging on the couch, his computer balanced on his lap and his reading glasses perched on his nose. Those were recent. Maybe his vision had always needed correction, or maybe he missed the sharper vision of a cat. He must’ve had a video call because he was wearing a button-up shirt with his sweatpants. He’d dragged the couch over to the window again, and Lann was lying across the back, eyeing her expectantly.
Jaime glanced up and smiled like he’d been waiting for her to come home all day. “Hey, perfect timing. The guy from Titan’s Tavern should be right behind you. I remembered to ask for more fish sauce this time.”
“I found a new apartment,” she blurted out, unable to keep it in for a moment longer.
Jaime sat up so abruptly his laptop tipped and nearly slid right onto the floor before he grabbed it. He set it on the coffee table and swallowed hard. “I, uh, didn’t know you were looking.”
“I wasn’t, but then I thought maybe I should.” How could she explain without making Jaime feel like he’d done something wrong? She should’ve thought this through better, maybe seen the new apartment before opening this particular can of worms.
Jaime tossed his reading glasses onto the coffee table and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Why?” he snapped.
The front door buzzer went off before she could answer. Brienne was absurdly relieved for the delay. She needed a moment. Two, perhaps even three. “I’ll get it,” she mumbled, and fled to the door. She pressed the buzzer to let the delivery guy upstairs, and waited by the door for him to arrive.
He was overly friendly, as usual, trolling for a larger tip. He needn’t have bothered. Brienne was a soft touch, she always tipped well. When he was gone and all the bags were on the counter, fragrant and making her mouth water, Brienne turned back to the living room. Jaime was still sitting on the couch, his face now in his hands.
She didn’t know what she was going to say until she’d made her way back to the living room and sat in the chair facing him. “As long as we’re here, this— us —will still be about Leo.”
Jaime slumped back against the couch. “Is that all? I thought you were leaving me.”
Brienne hadn’t even considered his completely justified abandonment issues. Her face heated, embarrassed and relieved all at once. “No, of course not. I mean, if you don’t want to move, you could sublet this place.” She had to give him an out. It wasn’t fair to assume he meant to come with her.
Jaime offered her a rueful smile and raised eyebrow. “And have two homes I don’t sleep in? No thanks, kitten.” She hadn’t been able to break him of that awful nickname. Jaime seemed to revel in her irritation about it. He scratched his short beard and gestured to his duffel bag spilling laundry onto the carpet in the corner. “I wouldn’t mind a bigger closet.”
“It has a bigger closet.” And for the first time, she let herself picture both of them there, Jaime’s suits and obnoxious red Lannisport Lions jerseys next to her starchy office clothes and flannel shirts.
Lann got up, stretched luxuriously, jumped into Jaime’s lap and rubbed her head against his hand before jumping off the couch, swishing her tail around Brienne’s legs on her way into the kitchen. She’d come back in a moment when she learned the delicious seafood smells weren’t for her.
Jaime sat up straighter, leaning toward Brienne. “Where is it? Do you have photos?”
“You really don’t mind leaving?”
Jaime shook his head. “I keep telling you, you’re my home. And maybe a fresh start would be good for us.”
Brienne got up and moved over to the couch, letting herself cozy right up to him. Jaime was strong and warm and solid, and it still gave her a thrill to be so close to him. Sleeping beside him every night, making love with him nearly as often, none of that felt commonplace yet. It was all still new and unexpected.
“It’s in Fishmonger’s Square.” She pulled up the photos on her phone, and Jaime commented as they scrolled through. Halfway through, Lann started batting around her empty food dish.
“Did you call the rental agent?” Jaime asked, casting a quick glance at the kitten now glaring balefully in their direction.
Brienne shook her head, scrolling to show him the massive claw foot tub in the bathroom.
“Call, before someone else snaps it up. I’ll feed the beast.” Jaime kissed her, lingering and sweet, before he got up.
Brienne watched him, his bare feet and mismatched clothes, murmuring endearments to the kitten now avidly following him as he picked up her bowl and started preparing her food. Jaime was a good man, more and more every day. If the fortuneteller had meant to humble him, to knock him loose from his family’s influence, she’d succeeded. Finding his own way was slow, difficult work, and it left him prickly at times. But he was trying, and Brienne admired him for that.
“Jaime?” He turned back to look at her, and it suddenly seemed criminal that she’d never told him. “I love you.”
He lit up, his smile wide and bright, the lines around his eyes and his messy hair making him softer, imperfect and even more appealing. “I love you, too.” He turned back to the kitchen, Lann nearly tripping him, and tossed back over his shoulder, “It’s still your turn to clean the litter box.”
Brienne laughed, her heart so full, and started dialing the rental agent. This apartment held a lot of memories, some good and some painful, but she couldn’t wait to make new ones in their new home, together.