“He’s not with you? Imagine that.” Oops, maybe he shouldn’t be sarcastic with Robert. It had slipped out before Howland had realized it. Don’t hurt me. “I don’t know. Probably inside the house?”

“I guess so.” Howland shuffled his feet. He still couldn’t believe that someone like her wanted to be friends with him. “You’re a good friend.”

❝Brandon was different from his brother, wasn't he? He had blood in his veins instead of c o l d water.❞ Brandon of House Stark, known as the Wild Wolf. The heir of Winterfell. Descriptive. Mature themes and trigger warnings. Ships with chemistry. Retweets appreciated.

No more than usual.

Does she uhm… need help?

It’s fine. He doesn’t mind.

He’s… not staring. He promises!

Sorry! Sorry! Quickly looks away.

“No!” blurted Howland suddenly, immediately feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He’s down the rabbit hole now. “No, it’s perfect the way it is.”

Howland nodded, pressing his lips together firmly as he nervously shuffled his weight around.

Wait what? 🥺

He’s down!

So she noticed he changed his hair? Cool!

He’s down!

He’s coming! And trying not to trip over his own feet as he runs after Ned.

He won’t fall. He wo–

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” said the young Reed as he quickly scrambled to his feet, wiping the dust off his jeans. Smooth Reed, he thought. Very smooth. Well done.

“I doubt it would help,” said Howland with a small smile. Thank god it had been only Ned who had seen him fall. At least it wasn’t as embarrassing when it was Ned. Howland trusted Ned. “I’d still find a way to fall. Sorry. Let’s keep going.”