I keep thinking you already know. I keep thinking I've sent you letters that were only ever written in my mind — Iain Thomas

After almost a year away from the North, Jon's feet touched the soil of Winterfell.

He looked around and smiled, feeling the winter's wind caressing his cheeks. Everything looked like he remembered it.

He was no longer Jon Snow – Eddard Stark's bastard. He was a Targaryen and a Stark; someone with a real name.

He never wanted to be a king. All he wanted to be was a Stark and to have a family. Being a Targaryen was something that he was still trying to get used to.

He had spent the last months in King's Landing, alongside with Daenerys. The Queen insisted on knowing the true heir of Rhaegar Targaryen; they were family now.

Jon never wanted to seat on the Iron Throne; his place was in Winterfell.

After long discussions about the future of the Seven Kingdoms, they agreed to rule together. Daenerys would stay in King's Landing and Jon would return home as the King in the North.

He missed his home. King's Landing was nothing compared to Winterfell. He was glad to be back.

Jon raised his hand to salute the guards as he made his way towards the castle.

After months of sleeping in a castle that didn't feel like home he was glad to finally be inside of a castle he knew like the back of his hand; to meet again the familiar sounds and smells that he longed for so long.

He remembered sleeping under stars – an attempt to be closer to his home; feeling the cold wind caressing his face made him feel closer to Winterfell. It reminded him of the time they defeated Bolton; the time they rebuilt the North and the standard of House Stark returned to Winterfell.

After the war it all felt like a dream, a beautiful dream.

Unconsciously, he found himself in front of the door of Sansa's chambers, despite the late hour.

They wrote letters to each other during the time he was away, but somehow that hadn't been enough to satisfy his desire to be near her.

He missed her. It was an unexpected feeling and despite his effort to not think of her, she managed to invade his dreams during the long nights he spent away from home. He missed her. He shouldn't but he did and that only increased his desire to return to Winterfell.

He told himself that the reason he was feeling that way was because they used to spend the days together: talking enthusiastically, sharing quiet moments, walking through Godswood with Ghost by their side – brother and sister's moments. Excuses he told himself to diminish the self-incrimination that was starting to creep up inside him. Deep down, he knew that Sansa and him never acted like siblings. He never saw Sansa the same way he used to see Arya; not when they were children and not when they met again in Castle Black, after years without seeing each other.

Jon was about to turn away from her chambers when the door opened and Sansa's figure appeared right in front of his eyes.

Before he could open his mouth and say something, Sansa's body collided against Jon's firmer one. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

His body reacted immediately.

He hugged her back as he took in the smell of her hair and skin. He closed his eyes. She smelled like lavender and daisies.

Jon slid his fingers through her hair, cradling the back of her head. It was an automatic action.

His left hand travelled down her back and found her waist.

Despite the cold nights of Winterfell, Sansa's nigh-rail was sleeveless and its hem hit her shins rather than brushing the floor. The furs on her bed were enough to warm her skin or so she thought. Jon's body pressed against her body made the furs look cold.

Sansa closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of his skin against hers. He smelled like North.

"Have you always been this warm?" – Sansa said against the skin of his neck, sending shivers down Jon's body.

She opened her eyes as soon as she heard her own voice saying those words; they were supposed to remain locked in her head, away from Jon's ears.

Suddenly, Jon took a step back, releasing her from his embrace. He could feel his cheeks turning red as Sansa's words echoed in his head.

His breath stopped for a moment as he saw that Sansa was only wearing a grey nigh-rail that allowed him to see the delicate porcelain skin of her cleavage. Her hair was hanging loose on her shoulders in a way it gave her a wild look. A redheaded beauty that made him want things that he shouldn't.

"I heard Ghost howling and knew that you were back" – her voice interrupted his thoughts and made him lock his eyes on hers.

When blue met gray Sansa heard her own heart beating against her ribcage.

Guilt and shame invaded her body as she looked at his mussed dark curls. The desire to stroke his hair made her clench her fists, so her body couldn't betray her once more.

After she found him in Castle Black she started to realize how handsome and brave and gentle Jon was. She started to look at him differently, and every time they were together she had to fight the perverse thoughts that insisted on invading her mind.

What kind of woman lusts for a brother? – she used to say to herself.

But he's not your brother. He never was – her conscience reminded her.

"Are you well? Unhurt?" – she asked, trying to control her thoughts.

"Aye" – Jon said, after clearing his throat – "Dirtier than when I left but unhurt" – he added with a shy smile.

"I'm glad to hear it, Your Grace" – Sansa said teasingly with a matching smile – "Did you enjoy King's Landing?" – she asked.

"Not really" – Jon confessed – "I would want nothing more than to stay here and never come back to that diseased land they call a capital"

I'm a Northman. I belong here with you, not down south in that rat's nest they call a capital – Eddard Stark said once to Catelyn Stark.

"I've always wanted to live in the capital. To see the southern knights and King's Landing after dark. I was so foolish" – Sansa said, faking a laugh – "I never felt at home while I was there" – she explained – "Winterfell is my home. How come I could not see that sooner?"

They remained in silence looking at each other as if the answer was hidden inside their eyes; as if they knew that the answer was hidden inside their eyes. They both realized that her question was not really about Winterfell but about them.

Sansa knew that Winterfell was only home because Jon was there. Jon knew that Winterfell was only home because Sansa was there.

"I don't know" – Jon said softly, feeling his cheeks flush. He looked down at his feet, avoiding eye-contact. He noticed that Sansa was barefoot – "Your feet must be cold"

Sansa followed his gaze and understood the double meaning of Jon's words.

Her hands found the iron handle of her door.

"Good night, Jon" – Sansa said, meeting Jon's eyes once more.

Jon was certain that no one had ever pronounced his name in such an attractive way as Sansa did.

"Good night, Sansa" – Jon managed to say before Sansa disappeared from his sight.

Once the door was closed Jon pressed his forehead against the wood and shut his eyes before turning around and pressing his back against it, unaware that on the other side of the door Sansa did the same thing.

I ship it. How can anyone not ship it after seeing their reunion? Their chemistry is insane!

I promise next chapters will be longer.

I hope you liked this chapter, dear readers! Please review!