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I shouldn’t have kissed her. It’s my entire fault. But Brienne was so fragile… Jaime thought, while stepping heavily onto the pavement. The damp asphalt reflected the traffic lights, but there were no cars on the road. Don’t call her Brienne, it’s Ms. Tarth for you! Idiot! You’re a fucking idiot!
He braced himself, trying to warm up as the thin rain made his hair get plastered onto his forehead. The wind was blowing cold against his body, and the thin jersey did nothing to shield him against the evening temperature.
Jaime remembered it, the day when they’d met. Three years ago, when he was a freshman at UKL, and his classmate Galladon Martell was just a flamboyant looking kid, being bullied for being gay. He was thrilled to know Galladon didn’t live in the dorms, because his mom actually lived in King’s Landing, while Jaime’s family was far away in the west, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by cows and horses. Jaime recalled his surprise when he saw Brienne Tarth – and why the hell did I ask why her surname wasn’t Martell? – and how different her son looked from her. The forty-two year old woman looked more like an adoptive mother to the olive-skinned boy with brown eyes and dark brown hair. She only gave Jaime a hint of a smile on the first day, before warning him to bring an umbrella next time, because it rained every damn day in King’s Landing anyway, so it was easier to always carry one with him. And now, as the rain poured heavier against him, Jaime recalled her first words, when he’d entered her house with his clothes partially wet.
The second time he saw her was when he had dinner at her house for the very first time. Jaime remembered watching her cook, barefoot and with her hair up in a messy bun. Each time she tried something, taking a small spoon and tasting the food she was cooking, her eyes would close and she’d moan a bit. Galladon challenged him, Guitar Hero match of the champs, as they called it. Jaime was never more thankful for the plastic guitar that seemed to perfectly conceal his arousal. Pathetic! He cursed himself, still unsure about what his bloody cock had seen on her. The woman was old, for fuck’s sake. She could be Jaime’s mother, although Joanna Lannister would be fifty-eight if she was alive. And she looks younger, anyway. What am I thinking? She’s Galladon’s mom! That’s a deal breaker! Everyone knows it.
Jaime had stayed away for weeks after that. And then each time he saw her, he made his best to look indifferent. Although sometimes he’d get caught, carried away by her laughter or by those blue eyes of her, and he’d notice he was smiling like an idiot, just watching every little thing she did, the way her hands touched the silverware as she added one extra place on the dinner table, for him, or the way she carefully offered a towel so Jaime could dry his hair when he got to her house in the middle of a storm, after not bringing an umbrella with him.
Spending time with Galladon had felt like being home again, back with his little brother. Galladon was funny and honest; Jaime admired how he always saw the bright side, even when things looked like a clusterfuck. Maybe it was Galladon’s origins that made him so laid back and happy with himself. Having two homes, a mom and a dad who loved him and also got along pretty well, made things sweet for him. Although when Galladon had first told Jaime about how he’d been conceived, Jaime had found it super weird and hard to believe his best friend was cool with it. Galladon’s mom had had a one night stand with her roommate, Oberyn Martell, so one broken condom and nine months later, Galladon was born.
Just thinking about a young and wild Brienne – I mean, Ms. Tarth, having one night stands during her college years got his brain short-circuited, and his cock stiff. Just what I don’t need right now! Jaime thought, as he followed the road to get to her house.
If only he’d taken a damn umbrella with him the night before, if only he hadn’t showed up at her door, with his clothes completely wet, shivering like a newborn kitten. If only he hadn’t made the foolish mistake of getting inside to warm up. And she’d told him so many times before, how he should always take the freaking umbrella with him. But he just didn’t listen. And what was I supposed to do anyway? I didn’t know Bri – I mean, Ms. Tarth would be disappointed and angry after a terrible date with that redhead jerk. Fuck!
Jaime shook his head, while the tiny drops fell on his face, as his hair kept getting wetter. And just when he thought he had gotten over that meaningless crush. After three years of that sweet torture, seeing her constantly, listening to her laughter whenever Galladon humored her, watching how she blushed each time she asked how she looked before going on a date. While Galladon would tell her she looked lovely, Jaime secretly cursed the bastard who was about to have dinner with her.
Then there had been the final exams week, during their first semester at UKL, the first time he’d slept at Galladon’s place, feeling too tired to get back to his dorm after hours of reviewing and studying. Jaime had felt his heart hammering inside his chest, just because he’d smelled the fruity scent of her shampoo as she appeared in the living room right after her shower, wearing green plaid pajama pants and a long-sleeved white t-shirt. He didn’t even know what was wrong with him, how the hell could he find her attractive when she worn a plain pair of pajamas? What had his cock been thinking, getting hard at the sight of her? Jaime had gone to bed, but the lack of tranquility had kept him awake as he thought of the woman sleeping in the next room. It was four in the morning when he finally succumbed, sneaking into the bathroom to jerk off as he wondered what her body would feel like within his arms. His mind, tricked by the darkness and the silence, made him reach out, opening the lid of the laundry basket only to take a piece of clothing. Her smell, the fruity perfume he found on a black silk shirt, made his head spin. Pressing the black smooth fabric against his face, Jaime breathed in deeply, trying to mark the scent of her within his memory. For a brief moment, he found heaven; her blue eyes were painted in his mind, as he pictured her on her knees, sucking him off while he grabbed her hair with both hands, keeping her mouth where he wanted. I’m a dirty bastard! The decadent fantasy tasted bitter when he imagined how she’d react if she ever found out what had been on his mind.
That first night had been awful, but the ones that came after were like a drug to him. He became addicted to being there, at her place. Whenever Galladon asked him to hang out, he was there in no time. And he often slept there, after strategically forgetting the time to take the bus back to his dorm. He knew when it was too late, Brienne – I mean, Ms. Tarth would insist on him spending the night there, so he wouldn’t risk being out on the streets so late in the evening. His sheepish smile only disguised the nasty images inside his head, as he kindly accepted her offer.
And just like that, he realized, much to his own misfortune, he’d fallen in love with her, and he’d never be able to do anything about it. Jaime didn’t even notice how many months had passed, the possible dates he had ditched only to go to Galladon’s place and study, or play video games with him while his mom was home. He just saw how things had changed when Galladon started dating Loras Tyrell, so Jaime’s friend started spending less time at home, and therefore, Jaime started seeing Galladon’s mom less frequently.
He did the only reasonable thing he could do: Jaime started making up excuses to go to her house and see her. A book he’d forgotten there, the final report he needed to hand in, Galladon’s electric guitar, or the USB cable he needed to sync his tablet; the simplest things were enough to get her agreeing to let him in. Then he’d take a little while to find what he needed, and it’d cause him to accidentally miss the last bus back to campus. Ms. Tarth, as usual, assured him he could sleep in her son’s bedroom, even during the absence of its owner, who spent the night at his boyfriend’s place.
Those nights were the best nights Jaime had had in years. Just imagining she was there, so close to him was enough to make him dream. Although he often found himself sniffing her clothes again while masturbating in the bathroom, in the middle of the night. In some occasions he’d picture her opening the door and finding him there, jerking his cock vigorously while burying his face in her clothes. Destiny played its cards too well, keeping his secret even though Jaime would always leave the bathroom door unlocked. He’d told himself locking the door would make some kind of noise, and she’d eventually wake up. Yet, he couldn’t tell for sure if that was really the case, considering she always slept with her bedroom door closed as well.
Jaime kept walking, each memory bringing back a time when he’d taken a step further into the unknown, decrypting Brienne Tarth, the mysterious older woman who’d been driving him insane. This is wrong! This is so wrong! Jaime thought, recalling the exact words Brienne had used when she’d realized they were kissing each other.
He could almost taste her lips, the moist heat of her mouth that had conquered his foolish tongue, as he tried to pretend he didn’t lack the experience to please her as much as she was pleasing him. “What am I doing?” Brienne had asked, while rubbing her lips against his cheek. “This is so wrong!” She whispered, sounding partly terrified and partly excited. But Jaime didn’t think it was wrong, he simply thought it was unexpected, rather foolish of him to imagine someone, who’d seen and done a lot more than he had, could actually feel attracted to him.
But it had all started earlier, when he’d arrived at her house. Again, in the middle of a fucking storm! Too late to be considered a visit, he got off the bus a little after eleven o’clock, then the short distance to her place was enough to get him totally wet. He’d been worried because she hadn’t picked up the phone when he’d called, so he had taken the bus to get there fast and check on her. He rang the doorbell, and it took her a couple of minutes to answer the door, wearing only a towel robe. The redness on her eyes and cheeks, as well as the grapy scent coming from her lips, let him know she’d been drinking.
The confusion on her face was only accompanied by sorrow. “Galladon isn’t home,” she said, then closing the door as he stepped inside, she observed he was soaking wet. “You’re shivering, Jaime!” She reached out and passed her hand over his forehead. “I’ll go get you a towel. Wait here, please.” She said, while going to the small closet under the staircase. Jaime looked at her, swallowing hard as he tried to sound friendly enough to make her tell him what was the matter.
“Ms. Tarth, Are you okay?” He asked, standing there, as she handed him the towel.
Crossing her arms, she displayed annoyance at his words. “I’m fine, Jaime. Is there something I can help you with? Don’t tell me you’ve come all the way from downtown only to see if Galladon was home.” She changed her tone, sounding motherly as she tilted her head.
“I called, and you didn’t pick up the phone…” Jaime shrugged, as he made a mess of his hair, rubbing the soft white towel against his golden mane.
“Then you decided to put yourself at risk, travelling around the city at this time in the middle of a storm?” She shook her head as she spoke. Then she turned away and walked towards the kitchen. “I was taking a bath, so I didn’t hear the phone ringing.”
Jaime’s eyes found the empty bottle in the trash, and the half empty one on the counter. “You’ve been drinking.” He said, wincing as he regretted the judgmental tone he’d used. She only looked back with narrowed eyes, the unreadable silence around them. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business but--”
“It’s really none of your business, Jaime.” She announced, her words sounded colder. Leaning her hip against the counter, Brienne pursed her lips for a moment, then she asked, “why did you come here?”
Jaime opened his mouth, and his lower lip trembled a bit before he said “A book… Galladon forgot…” He played with his words, wishing he’d given some thought to his lie before opening his mouth.
“Then you should go get your book. You don’t want to miss the 11:35 bus. You can borrow my umbrella this time.” And there was her motherly tone of voice again. Jaime hated when she spoke like that. There was tenderness in her voice, but the neutrality of it only made him feel more distant.
He took a deep breath, and then he left her standing there, to go to Galladon’s room. He counted the seconds, but he didn’t stay upstairs for more than a minute. When he went back downstairs, he found her with a mug in her hands. The vapor danced over the cup, while she pulled the tea bag up a little. Brienne was staring at the sink, and there was something about her expression, something that made Jaime feel guilty, not wanting to leave her alone in that house.
Setting the book he’d found to cover up his lie onto the counter, Jaime put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t wish to bother you, Ms. Tarth… but you seem to be worried.”
The smirk on her face looked more like mockery. “Jaime, I’m not worried. I’m fine, really…” Her hands pressed onto the hot surface of the mug, while she lowered her face to taste the beverage.
Jaime exhaled, he wished he was a lot more subtle. “Ms. Tarth, I can see you’ve been crying, and I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but you’re… someone close, I don’t wish to see you upset.” The result of his words was marked on her face as she wrinkled her nose.
Her blue eyes found his, and the redness around her ocean blue iris spoke of insecurity and loneliness. “I’m not upset.” She whispered, her chest rising as she inflated her lungs. “Sometimes we cry because we’re too angry and frustrated to do anything else.”
“Angry?” His confusion had to be visible as he inquired.
She furrowed her brows. “In spite of all the joys of freedom, independence often means loneliness. And that’s a hell lot more complicated.” Brienne sipped some more of her tea.
Jaime felt his heart being torn as he noticed she looked conformed to that sad diagnosis. He didn’t move as he asked, “bad date?”
She nodded. “Terrible date.”
“I’m sorry.” Jaime looked down at the floor. “What went wrong?”
She gesticulated, “he’s a workmate, so I really shouldn’t have said yes, but… he’d been asking for so long--”
“Ronnet Connington?” Jaime asked, interrupting her as he felt his stomach revolving. He knew the redhead guy because he’d brought her home a few times, when Jaime had been there with Galladon. Jaime recalled standing by the window and watching Brienne getting off Ronnet’s car, while Galladon cursed the bastard, saying he looked at his mom like a vulture watching dead meat. Brienne always told he’d just offer her a ride home because he lived in the neighborhood, but Galladon didn’t buy it, neither did Jaime. They knew Ronnet was up to something.
“You know his name?” She asked, with confusion on her face.
“Galladon hates this guy… so I’ve heard a lot about him.” Jaime shrugged, trying to conceal his irritation as he imagined the filthy bastard staring at Brienne’s body during dinner.
Brienne chuckled. “Well, I can’t say I wasn’t warned.” She confessed, mentioning the times Galladon had told her she shouldn’t go out with that guy. She blew softly into the cup, moving away the cloud of steam over her tea. “I guess I hadn’t noticed how much of an asshole he was. We speak so rarely in the office.” Her shoulder rose, and Jaime could see she tried to sound indifferent to it.
“How did it go? You know, dinner with him.” Jaime cursed himself for asking, the mere thought made him angry.
“It was awful. He chose a fancy restaurant that charged eighty golden dragons for a freaking salad. The fish was terrible, and the dessert tasted like flour. Well, the food was bearable, but the guy was unacceptable.” She shook her head as the corner of her mouth went up. “Can you believe he flirted with the waitress?”
Jaime laughed, crossing his arms as he felt her mood lightening up. “It happens.” He said, trying to make her feel better.
“And it’s apparently an innocent practice for him, considering he expected me to kiss him when he brought me back home.” She widened her eyes, while her eyebrows went up. “Like he thought I was supposed to feel attracted to him even after he behaved like a jerk and hit on someone right in front of me!” She explained, sounding very annoyed by it.
Jaime couldn’t help the frown forming on his face. “Did you?” He inquired, feeling his breath getting caught in his lungs.
“Nope.” She said while looking away.
He snorted. “Just thinking of it makes me sick.”
“Thinking of kissing me makes you sick?” She asked.
“No!” He soon denied it, to make his point. “I mean the thought of you kissing that son of a bitch.” He clenched his hands, while he felt his heart hammering harder inside his chest. “He didn’t try anything, did he?”
She smiled. “No, he didn’t. Jaime, you don’t need to act all protective with me. You sound just like my son.” She laughed, as she turned away and placed her mug on the counter.
Great! Now she thinks of me like a kid. Jaime thought, bothered by her words. He dared to take a step further, keeping himself from reaching out to touch her arms. “Bri—Ms. Tarth, I don’t mean it like that.” His eyes waited until she finally faced him. “You’re… a wonderful pers—woman and you deserve someone terrific, just… just like you are!”
Jaime noticed her throat bobbing up and down, and he knew she became tense after his statement. Her eyes scanned him, and her parted lips trembled a bit. “I guess what I deserve and what I usually get are two different things.”
“You say that, but you don’t believe it, do you? Because if you really thought that was the case, then you wouldn’t bother going out and risking having a terrible date. Deep down, you hope you’ll find something better.” Jaime felt his heartbeat drumming inside his ears, as he became more and more nervous.
“You should go now, or you’ll miss your bus.” She spoke dryly, while smoothing the towel surface of her robe. Jaime noticed how she seemed to be holding it closer to her chest, as if trying to shield herself from him.
He knew now that he should have left after that. Now, as the rain poured on top of his head, he recalled she had advised him to leave. And I should’ve left as she told me to! Each step he took, he remembered she had told him to go home, and he wondered if she foresaw the moment they’d make things far more complicated for both of them.
“Maybe I want to miss it.” He had whispered so softly, it barely made sense to his ears as he tilted his head as he watched her. Brienne’s blue eyes kept staring at him, as she slowly shook her head.
A frown on her face accompanied her words as she sounded bitter. “Don’t you mock me!” She warned, turning away and leaving him there. Jaime followed her to the living room, and each step he took led him to panic, as he saw he got closer to the front door.
“I’m not mocking you! I’m being honest, Ms. Tarth. I worry about you, and about what could’ve happened to you that caused you not to answer the phone. So I came here, and I don’t think you should be alone in your state.” At his last words, she turned to face him, and she glared.
“In my state?” She took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t be alone in my state?” She laughed sarcastically, causing Jaime to feel embarrassed as he stood there in front of her. She touched the doorknob, but she didn’t open the door for him. Her eyes searched for something as she looked through the delicate door pane. “What is it that you’re implying, Jaime? Is that a pity fuck you’re offering? Cheering up your friend’s mom, because she’s either too stupid or too damn unattractive to get some. That’s a bit of a cliché, isn’t it?”
He took a step further, risking the moment, as she watched him closely. Reaching out faster than she expected, Jaime cupped both her arms, as he looked into her eyes. “There’s no pity in it, and you must be indeed stupid if you can’t see how attractive you are.”His face was so close to hers, he could feel her breath against his upper lip.
“Your clothes are all damp…” She whispered, sounding worried as she must’ve felt him shivering. He felt her hand touching his jaw line, and he wished it wasn’t an attempt to push him away. As her thumb touched his lower lip, Jaime wrapped his arms around her, pressing her torso against his as he kissed her mouth. She tasted sinfully sweet, and her skin was soft and warm, much warmer than he’d imagined all those lonely times he touched himself thinking of her. He held her so tightly her breathing got faster, as she dipped her fingers into his hair. A moan accompanied the passionate contact. The fruity smell of her shampoo invaded his lungs again, as he tried to pull the messy bun of her hair loosen, forcing his fingers through her hair, just before another moan left her throat. It was the hottest and sexiest sounds he’d ever heard in his life, and he just wanted to keep melting himself onto her skin, so he could cradle her in his embrace. Jaime wanted to hold her there forever.
The moment he pulled his head back to get some air, he saw the shock on her face. Brienne’s hands released him, as she shook her head. “What am I doing?” She asked, whispering as she blushed. “This is wrong! This is so wrong!” Now she sounded desperate.
“It’s the only thing I’m sure of…” Jaime whispered, as he cupped her face.
Brienne pushed him away, and nervously fumbled with the lapel of her robe before grabbing the doorknob. “You should leave right now!” She announced, and then she glanced at him once more. “Good night, Jaime.”
He reached out, while trying to touch her face, as she stood almost behind the door, holding it defensively, but she flinched away. “Good night, Ms. Tarth.” He used her surname once more, admitting she’d placed a barrier between them all over again.
I shouldn’t have kissed her! Jaime thought, as he turned left, and saw her house. Jaime had no idea what he was going to tell her, if he’d either apologize, or if he’d tell her their kiss had been the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him. Climbing the steps and trying to shake himself to get rid of the excess water on his hair, Jaime rang the doorbell, hoping to see her.
His surprised turned into irritation, as he saw opening the door, the man he didn’t expect to be there, Galladon’s father, Oberyn Martell. “You didn’t bring an umbrella?” Oberyn asked, while grinning like a school boy.