Thread: Que Sera, Sera (random fics)

Young Girl Theon Greyjoy was incredibly uncomfortable. It was bad enough to pretend to care when a teenager sobbed about her problems but when said teenager decided to use his shirt for a handkerchief, a new level of willpower had to be harnessed and practiced. If she wasn't Robb's niece, he would have left her to her awkward tears a while ago. But she was Robb's niece and he just had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And so he sat there on that bench on a beautiful summer day with a pretty teenage girl clinging to him for dear life. Theon could only scowl at the people passing by who had the gall to stare. He had been forced to look the part of concerned parent and it was that and that alone that compelled him to awkwardly pat her blonde head while she continued to cry. Somewhere between her first sob and her feeble hiccups, he had managed to call her actual father and if the Gods were kind, Snow would be here shortly and relieve him of this terrible burden. He would probably have to throw the shirt out. No number of washings could remove the stain of underage tears. It's not fair, she wept, her voice muffled into the cotton, Just because I wasn't ready he... Now this was an entirely different kind of uncomfortable. Forced comfort was one thing but Theon was not prepared to listen to her go on about her sex life or lack thereof. He's an idiot, he cut in before she could go into lurid detail, He just dumped the prettiest girl he could ever hope to get. I'll kick his arse from here to Brooklyn. Just say the word. That wasn't a complete lie. He would have agreed to anything if it meant getting her off of him. He was no good at this. Theon Greyjoy was no one's therapist. Surprisingly enough, his words seemingly connected and after what seemed like an eternity, she was finally pulling away and squinting at him through the harsh glare of the sun. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy but otherwise she was still a strikingly pretty girl of 16. 16. Theon frowned, not daring to say anything lest she wind up sobbing again. For the first time in forever, the sight of Jon Snow was filling him with sheer relief and even a little joy. He tried not to watch when Snow effortlessly swept the teen into his arms and fixed her with that parental look of concern. It's all right, he soothed before turning to address Theon. The look on his face seemed strained as if expressing even a little gratitude towards him was a chore. Thanks for calling me. Theon didn't reply and rose from his spot. He would never sit on this bloody bench again. Jon was ready to leave but out of the corner of his eye, he could see Evanna lingering and in spite of his better judgment, he turned back around to see what the holdup was. Perhaps he would regret his decision some day but at that moment, she got up on her tiptoes and pressed a chaste little kiss to his cheek. Theon didn't react. He simply stared at her. Even after crying for god only knew how long, she looked positively vibrant when she smiled and what a smile it was. Her teeth were straight and even and white and the dimples on either sides of her face only added to the angelic look. The pale blue eyes that reminded him so much of her bloody father were wide and shiny and actually flashing . Beautiful , he noted. Unfairly, unreasonably, undoubtedly beautiful. Thanks for listening, she added shyly before going to her father at last. Theon ignored the way Jon was looking at him, suspicious and a little annoyed. He stood there long after the pair of them had driven off. The heat of the day had quickly dried his shirt off and it was only when he felt the tell-tale sting of an oncoming sunburn that he willed himself to walk away. Halfway down the street, Theon Greyjoy began to whistle to the tune of that old classic. Young girl, get out of my mind. My love for you is way out of line. Better run, girl. You're much too young, girl...