The chill of the northern wind swept through Castle Black, but the cold was nothing compared to the tension that lingered between you and Jon. Weeks of stolen glances, brief exchanges, and unspoken words had built a wall that neither of you seemed willing to break. Yet tonight felt different.

As you stood near the training grounds, gazing out at the snow-covered expanse, you heard the crunch of boots behind you. You didn’t need to turn to know it was him. His presence was as familiar as the icy air that surrounded you.

“Can I speak with you?” Jon’s voice was quiet, almost uncertain.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, his expression a mix of determination and hesitation. “Of course,” you said softly, turning to face him fully.

He took a step closer, the faint light from the torches illuminating his furrowed brow and the slight clench of his jaw. His hands, gloved and rough from years of wielding a sword, flexed at his sides as if unsure of what to do.

“I’ve been meaning to…” He stopped, exhaling heavily as his dark eyes met yours. “I’m not good with words. Never have been.”

You stayed silent, sensing that whatever he was about to say had been weighing on him for some time.

“But I can’t keep this to myself anymore,” Jon continued, his voice steadying as he took another step closer. “You’ve been on my mind every moment, and I don’t know how to… I don’t know how to say it right.”

His hand reached up, almost hesitantly, to brush a strand of hair from your face. The small gesture made your breath hitch, and Jon seemed to notice, his own breath faltering.

“What I’m trying to say is… I want to be by your side,” he said, his words firm despite his obvious nerves. “If you’ll have me, I’ll spend every day proving how much you mean to me. Not with words—but with everything I have.”