Now that they had been dating for a while, Jon and Dany sat together in class. Sometimes, his presence distracted her and her mind wandered thinking about a date or a kiss or maybe a little more. He showed her on his phone an event of a wine exposition in the city that would be held that evening. She loved wine and immediately agreed to go. Little by little, he talked more easily to her and did not hesitate before asking her 'What should we do this evening?' anymore, as it was already becoming a habit to go out.
Her friends had told her they would have stopped talking to someone if it took that much effort to make him speak. She disagreed. Jon's difficulty to speak freely didn't mean he wasn't interesting. It felt like what he said, as it took a stronger effort for him to say it, had to be important or valuable to him. For her, it was so easy to say whatever was on her mind that she could say something either interesting or entirely pointless. With Jon, it was usually the first option. And even though she was the one who usually brought up conversation topics, he did talk once she set the way. It always seemed like he had an urge to speak further but something held him back, so she tried to listen closely and not interrupt him.
Later that evening, they walked out of campus together to the subway station.
"You have a nice, um…purse," he blurted out.
"I'm...not wearing a purse."
"Aren't you?" his entire face blushed. "I thought you were, I…was looking for a compliment to tell you but..." he chuckled. "I ended up screwing up."
"Well, thank you anyway," she chuckled. "You have nice leather boots."
He laughed. He was wearing sneakers. "Thank you."
The wine exposition was fancier than they had expected: tall ceilings, huge chandeliers, people dressed up. There were plenty of stands with sellers in tuxedos showing perfectly arranged wine bottles. She was wearing a light jacket and he a dark sweater; they looked like fifteen-year-olds in a place where everyone looked over sixty.
"Good evening," said the man in the first stand they approached. "Would you like to try a Cabernet Sauvignon Rutherford, from 2010?"
"Oh, sure, yes!" Dany replied. The man held the bottle with elegant, white gloves and served two glasses for them.
"Do you know how to taste it?" Jon whispered in her ear.
"No, and you?" He shook his head. "Let's just watch how the others do it."
Two old men were standing next to them, spinning their glasses in their hands. Jon and Dany started spinning their glasses as well, cackling.
"Are we supposed to smell them now?" she asked him.
"I think so." He put the glass under his nose and said, "Mmm, grape."
Dany burst out laughing.
At the next stand, they had tried a Pinot Noir from 2011. They spun their glasses, smelled their wine, nodded looking at each other as if they were experts.
"Mmm," Dany tasted it, shrinking her eyes. "Do I taste a little…raspberry?"
"Uh, no, miss," the seller replied.
Jon laughed, "Nice try."
At the next stand, the seller served them two different wines. Hers was tastier and stronger. She extended her hand and put her glass close to Jon's face for him to try it, making him cover her hand with his to drink it. He nodded, "It's really good."
At the next stand, she told him, "You know what, I say fuck all that tasting ritual. Let's chug it all."
Jon looked at the seller and the people around them. "Are you…sure?"
"Let's try to get drunk," she said, curious if some alcohol could loosen him up a bit.
He giggled, looking down, and then gave in.
"Okay, onetwothree, chug," she said quickly, and they drank their glasses in one sip. "Sir," she asked the seller, "Which wine here has the highest alcohol percentage?"
He couldn't hold back a laugh and pointed at a stand on the other side of the hallway, telling them to try the Merlot in it. Dany pulled Jon by the arm and quickly made their way there between laughs. They laughed, clicked their glasses, and drank it up.
Jon grimaced at the strength of the drink.
"Do you want to buy a bottle?" the seller asked them.
"Oh! No, no, no. We're just here to drink," she said, and Jon laughed beside her.
He put his arm around her shoulder and told the man, "Please, excuse her honesty. I think I'll get one for my dad, though. His birthday is in a couple of weeks."
They paid for the bottle and kept on walking around the place, asking for alcohol percentages shamelessly. Dany's cheeks were getting slightly warm and her body light. It felt like she was holding herself back from prancing instead of walking. She couldn't hold herself back from talking nonstop to him.
"You know those experiments where they give people different types of wine, and they have to say which one they like more?" Jon shook his head. "It's so interesting! See, all their decisions make sense: They prefer more expensive wines, better wines, over cheap ones. Until they don't. They give them the same wine in two different glasses, and say that one costs five times more, and they genuinely liked more the one which was apparently more expensive." He let out a laugh. "This example made me think..." she went on. "We're not rational, are we?"
"I'd say emotions outweigh reason."
"Yeah, it seems like it."
"We decide stuff often from the way we feel about something. We don't analyze everything rationally, I mean, we use heuristics all day." Like falling for someone, she thought. She wanted to analyze rationally if she and Jon were one for the other, but it was so difficult to do so when her emotions intervened beyond her control.
"Would you like to switch to my major?" he jested. "There's a lack of female philosophers in school. In the world, actually."
"Thanks for the offer. There's also a lack of female economists, by the way. My major isn't perfect, but I like it. I can't deny that we need a bit more critical thinking in our careers, though. But," she smiled, "I luckily have a philosopher as a f…" she hesitated about which word to use, "as a friend…who helps me question stuff that others take for granted."
He only smiled and nodded. Had the use of that word been alright?
"One question," he said, looking at the ground as they wandered around the place. "Is it true that...people with scientific majors, in general, think they're better than people with no maths in their majors?"
Dany's jaw dropped and she stopped walking abruptly. "That's not true! I don't think that at all."
"Thank you. I'm not talking about you, though, I'm talking about…what people say, in general."
"Some people think that their majors are more difficult because they involve math, yes." He smiled and looked down. "But that's bullshit. Humanities are so important! Where would we even be without you guys? Still living in fucking caves, probably."
Jon exhaled a laugh. "Thank you. You guys are super necessary too. Thank you for creating taxes."
Dany laughed out loud. "You're welcome. I think both are important, you know? As long as we can have a space to think for ourselves. Since we're children, school is always making us memorize stuff. In exams, we have to write exactly what the book or the teachers say. And our intelligence is measured by that! By how well we do as we're told, basically. I thought I'd have a bit more agency in uni...but it hasn't been that way."
"You're saying you'd like to think more critically?"
"I'm saying we should work hand in hand."
"You and I?"
"No," she chuckled lightly. "I mean, maybe. I was talking about humanities and sciences."
"What should we learn from you guys?"
"Well, we have effective approaches to find algorithms and solutions. If you guys do research, you need to handle statistics and all that. You need to have a certain basis on evidence too."
Jon nodded. "Sounds fair."
"Yeah, it shouldn't be one or another, it should be..." she moved her arms up and down and then stopped when they were at the same level, "balanced."
"Yes," he smiled, and placed his hand on her upper back, catching her off guard and sending a tingle up her spine. He was slowly becoming more physical. "Yes. Both are good." She giggled and found herself closing the space between them a bit. "Your face is so…pink," he said. His smile pushed up his cheekbones. It seemed like he would kiss her; but instead, he only said, "Do you want to go out? For a walk maybe? To get some fresh air?"
And so, they left the exposition and walked through thin streets towards the center of the city. All the lampposts and the lights coming from inside the buildings lighted up the city, the capital of Westeros, with its tall buildings belonging to the powerful banks, and all the crowds of people who walked every day down the center of the city. King's Landing had a charm of its own. It was on the coast, so there were beaches near, just like in Dragonstone. A river snaked through the whole city and joined the sea at the coast. But wherever she looked, she saw homeless people on the streets. Arianne, her best friend, had sent her information about a volunteer programme for the weekends; she really wanted to go, but was also worried about giving up her study time on the weekends.
They stopped on a bridge, it was all made of stone and was as long as if one of the buildings lay horizontally from one side of the river to the other. They were in the heart of the city, staring down at the dark water flowing downstream, where boats filled with tourists swam by.
It caught Dany off guard when, out of the blue, Jon said, "Hey, um, I wanted to say that...you talk much more than I do and...I don't want you to think that it's because I'm not having a good time or anything of the sort. I just…get...a little nervous! Sometimes. I don't know."
"Oh, no, don't worry about it. It's okay. It's your personality."
His smile trembled. "Thank you. I just thought I…should tell you."
She offered him back a warm smile in reassurance. "Okay, it's okay."
However, as the conversation died, she hoped such silence wasn't making him feel uneasy or guilty about not speaking enough, or with the need to apologize. So she remembered a question that had been at the back of her mind for a while but had never known how to ask it.
"Can I ask you something?" she started. They knew each other better now. She guessed she could go for it. "I told you some time ago how most people choose popular careers, the ones that will assure them that they will be financially comfortable in the future: law, finance, business, economics…" she chuckled. "Do you remember?"
"I do."
"My question is…don't take it the wrong way, please, but…how…why did you choose…"
"A career that probably won't give me money?" he giggled.
Her stomach turned—she had definitely screwed up. "I didn't mean it like that. I meant that it's not a…popular career. At all. I had never met a philosopher in my life. And well, yes…I guess it's less easy to get a job with it than with other careers that kind of…promise a stable future." Jon nodded, looking down. "I didn't mean to put you in an uncomfortable position..."
"You haven't done so, don't worry."
"On the contrary, Jon, I think it's…" she looked up, searching for a word, "…admirable that you chose not to follow everyone's path—the easy, comfortable path—and did what you really wanted to do. So, my question is…how did you…not succumb to the pressures of society?"
He pushed down a smile, turning his gaze to the river. "Well, it's a good question, and I'm not uncomfortable, it's alright," he assured her in a light voice. "It's not like I do my own thing without caring about social pressures, though. It's inevitable to care about them, they're frightening..." He exhaled. She stared down at the river too to give him some space for his thoughts. "Okay, so…I'm…look, I'm…" He held the edge of the stone railing with both hands, leaving the bottle on the side. "I'm the quietest in my family. But I always watched closely everything others did and said, and always asked myself why they acted a certain way—why I acted a certain way…why the world was the way it was...I always worried too much, from wars to world hunger to the rising cancer statistics," he chuckled nervously. "Am I oversharing?" he asked in a high-pitched voice.
"No, it's okay," she replied. It was more than okay. She was surprised by how much he was opening up to her. She hadn't really told him much about her feelings yet, or her problems at home, but was glad he was comfortable enough with her to say this.
"Well, when I started reading philosophy…there were so many people out there asking questions, and much better questions. I think I felt like I sort of...fit in. And to answer your question about why I chose it as a major when I could have chosen…law, or…"
"-Or economics," she jested.
"Or economics," he chuckled. "I was reading the work of a philosopher, John Stuart Mill, and he had this idea, this principle, called the Harm Principle. Quite controversial, to be honest, but tempting. It said that every person—or every adult—should be free to live as they please as long as they don't harm others. He said that society would be better off this way, happier this way. And he wasn't just against the government telling people what to do or not to do, he talked about how social pressures prevent people from doing what they want to do. Take geniuses, for example. If social pressures prevent them from doing what they're good at and they end up working in...finance by succumbing to social pressures, then they'll, naturally, be unhappy...and society will be worse off: they'll have fewer…scientific inventions or…no music from Mozart. His point was that you yourself know best what you want. And even if you don't know, it's better for you to be free and make your own mistakes than to be forced to do something else and then being miserable about it."
She watched him with a tiny smile, attentive, not wanting to say a single word if it meant he would stop talking.
"So, yeah," he turned to her. "I guess he convinced me. But it wasn't an easy choice. It was difficult as hell. If I had hesitated a little bit more, I would have ended up in law," he chuckled. "What do you think?"
"I think you're—" she blinked and trailed off. Wonderful, she had wanted to say. But, instead, she only said, "I think it's extremely interesting. More people should think this way."
Again, he tried to hide a grin, but couldn't do so now, and neither could she: he had just apologized for not talking a while ago, but how much was he talking now! And for the rest of the night, it was he who kept on bringing up conversation topics.
"You know what I was thinking the other day?" he looked at her with a smile.
"What?" she asked, unable to erase her own smile from her face.
"I was remembering when you saw me arguing with Selmy in the classroom the day we met—" he said, and she laughed. "It's terrible, though, that the first impression you had of me has been of an argument." He shook his head with a smile. "I'm a mess in his course, though, I don't blame him. But I don't normally lose my temper, really!"
She waved her hand in reassurance. "It's fine. We all have our bad days, and emotions aren't so easy to control." At least for her, they weren't. Jon did seem more in control of his, though. Besides his shyness, or beyond his shyness, he seemed calm and collected. She wished she could be a little more like that.
"They're not," he said. "Emotions are…they're natural. We're always gonna feel them. But I try to control them, 'cause I think…" he smiled. "I think it's much more important to be a good, a…a kind person than an…'intelligent' or 'intellectual' person. Don't you think? I mean, you could have the highest IQ on Earth but what does it matter if you're a complete ass?" he cackled.
She wanted to go to everyone who said they would give up on shy people for making it difficult to talk easily. 'This is what I mean!' she would like to tell them all. Once Jon felt comfortable, listened, he spoke with, apparently, no difficulties. And how she liked what he said! How in the world could she help herself from wanting to learn more about him, from delayering his personality bit by bit?
She laughed. "It's true. Everyone already has enough problems, I guess. Why create more?"
She genuinely meant her words. One could never know how another person's day had truly been, nor how their imperfect their family was. That was the main reason why she always tried her best to be kind, to talk to other people, to tell jokes and cheer them up.
His hand hesitantly reached hers, and she welcomed it with a tight grip. She looked down at the river before them and, as a piece of metal being drawn to a magnet, she couldn't help getting closer to him until their arms were pressed against one another.
"Hey, by the way, one question," he said. "Have you…have you had…?" But he only shook his head and did not continue.
"What?" she smiled. "Have I had what?"
"Nah, it's not important," he smiled shyly, looking down.
"Come on!" she grinned, "I'm too curious now. Tell me!"
He chuckled. "I was going to ask…" he swallowed, "I was going to ask you if you had had many…many boyfriends before."
She let out a laugh under her breath and said, "Not at all. I've dated people but haven't been in a relationship, if that's your question. What about you?"
"Same," he replied. "No, not same. I have not been in a relationship either, I mean. But I haven't been on dates before."
She smiled, finally having a clear hint that he was interested in more than just dates. Would he ask her to be his girlfriend? Maybe he wouldn't and, at some point, things would be too serious to be "just dating". That last category did not seem enough to her, not with him. This dynamic of going out after class, almost daily now, did not feel enough. She wanted to talk more with him, to take him to her place, cuddle with him or even cook with him instead of just going out for dinner.
She did not let others get too deep into her life. While it was true that she talked to others easily, most of those conversations were shallow. She drew a line at some point. There was a limit to what she shared even with her best friend. She had friends with whom she went out for drinks or to dance, but she didn't create stronger bonds, nor felt comfortable to share her deepest fears and insecurities. Not only because of embarrassment, but because her mother had let her father get into her life way too fast and it had ended up catastrophically.
Yet everything that seemed frightening about having a boyfriend dissipated with every date they had. Jon was the antithesis of the men she feared could turn like her father. Jon was anything but aggressive or frightening. She could ask him explicitly to be her boyfriend. It would be nice to have this set and clear. But if after asking her about her romantic life, he had not gone further, she would not ask him yet.
She stared at his lips, hoping that this time the silence could be filled by a kiss instead of more attempts to start new conversations. She took a step to close the space between them, leaning in, giving him the chance to kiss her first. Her face heated up, her lips almost trembled in anticipation. They were in the most cliché romantic setting ever, standing over the river under the night sky, how could he not kiss her?
He leaned in but stopped when their faces were so close that they had to close their eyes, so she pressed her lips to his. They were soft lips, which sent a vibration down to her stomach, down her arms. She moved her head slightly to the side and opened her mouth to close it slowly around his upper lip. It was much slower than the fast and impulsive kiss she gave him in her room.
He softly let go and, against her lips, said, "You taste like grape."
She laughed out loud and they restarted the kiss before wasting more time. He held her by the arms and she pressed her body against his almost unconsciously. She kissed him more, resting her hands on his waist. It was turning into a long kiss and she could feel its reaction between her legs. Was it too soon to have sex with him? She knew she wanted it, especially as the kiss grew hungrier. She was attracted to him. She trusted him. Would he want it, though?
It was painful to break the kiss, yet they held hands during the whole trip back to school.
"Well, then," he said as they stood at the door of her dorm in the windy night. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Jon," she grinned, already missing the warmth of his hand in hers.
He smiled back, and suddenly told her, "You're great."
His words enlarged her smile, like strings pulling the sides of her lips. "You too," she said. "Really." After a moment of silence and him blushing, she dared to do an act of bravery: "So, I...I was wondering if maybe you wanted to…come up?"
It wasn't necessarily an invitation for sex only, but maybe it was time to be on their own in a private place, at least cuddling, and see where things would go. She guessed he might want it as well but was too shy to propose it. Yet a tiny frown appeared on his face, which right away made her regret asking him that.
"Oh...I gotta…wake up early tomorrow. And I…g-gotta…"
"It's okay," she said, embarrassed. "Don't worry."
Should she have waited longer before asking this? Again, this would be much easier if there were written instructions. But they had been going out for a while now, knew they were attracted to one another, and that, perhaps, they were both willing to be in a relationship.
He nodded and said, "A-another time?"
She nodded. "Sure."
He stood still, probably wondering if he had made the right choice. "Well, see you tomorrow, Dany."
"Goodnight Jon," she said, and watched him walk away into the night. She sighed and turned to enter her dorm.