Til Death Do Us Part...

Life with Jon 22

From experience Ilva knew that it didn't take that long to make a house feel like a home. It took a few frames on the walls with pictures close to her heart. It took a few bookcases in the living room with all those old and new stories to discover. And it most of all took someone to share that house with.

With a box in her arms Ilva stepped over the threshold of their new apartment. The air was filled with the smell of paint and when she called Jon's name her voice echoed all around her. "Jon, can you take this box from me? There are a few more in the car and I want to have them all up before we start unpacking."

A few seconds later the box was lifted from her arms and quickly Ilva rushed down the stairs to get the next one and the next and the next one.

Eventually she stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by boxes and empty shelves and empty walls. She twirled around to see the familiar furniture in their new surroundings.

The new apartment was slightly bigger than the previous one. Instead of two bedrooms they now had three and the kitchen and living room were no longer combined.

At first Ilva had complained that this was much too big and much too expensive for them. After all, they were just two people who would share a bed. Why would they even need three bedrooms? But Jon had assured her that they needed them. At first because then Ilva could finally create that library she had always dreamed of. And then he had whispered that it also meant that they wouldn't have to move in case they would ever think about starting their own little family.

"Where do you wanna start?" Jon wrapped his arms around her and rocked her back and forth. His chin rested on her shoulder. "I guess you wanna unpack the books first?"

A smile spread across Ilva's face and then she nodded while freeing herself from his tight embrace. Quickly she scanned the different boxes until she found the ones with the layer of books at the very bottom. "If you take the rest out, I'll put the books where they should be." Ilva handed Jon the blankets, sheets and towels they had used to fill out the boxes and tenderly her fingers touched the spines of the books as soon as they became visible.

She had spent quite some nights thinking about how to organise them.

Margaery had dared to suggest to sort them by color, creating a rainbow and a piece of art. She had clearly not been doing any literary classes.

There was no reason to sort a bookcase by color, apart from the fact that it could be aesthetically pleasing. A bookcase sorted by color, was a bookcase without a real order. And maybe that worked for smaller collections, but this collection was only growing and growing and eventually they wouldn't be able to find anything anymore.

In their old apartments they had kept their bookcases separate. One for Ilva and one for Robb. But somehow that didn't feel right anymore either. All of those books were hers now, just like Robb was now a part of her. They should mingle and mix.

And therefore she ordered them by author. His books ended up in between hers and hers ended up in between his. If they would have treated their books a little more alike, it would have been impossible to see which book had belonged to whom.

When all the boxes with books were empty and the shelves were full Ilva stepped back to admire her work. And yet the bookcase still felt incomplete, even though it was already filled to the brim and she would soon need a new one.

Ilva kneeled down next to another box and with trembling fingers she opened it and took one of the frames out.

Robb was smiling at her. He had that wonderful glimmer in his bright blue eyes and his curls were blown by the wind. The picture was taken a couple of weeks before he had left, when they had taken a stroll through New York even though a storm was nearing the city.

Her hands still shook a little when she placed the picture on one of the shelves.

"Looks good, Ilva." Jon stood behind her, but he kept a small distance. "Shall I get the ones we wanna hang on the wall too?"

Only a year ago every small thing that had reminded her of Robb had hurt. Her entire apartment had hurt. Sleeping in their bed had hurt. Opening the closet with his clothes had hurt.

It didn't hurt so much anymore. Whenever she saw the pictures of the man she had loved so much, she thought of all the amazing memories she carried with her. She thought of their dinners in cheap restaurants because they couldn't afford the expensive ones. She thought about the time Robb had gathered her a bouquet of wild flowers for Valentine's day because he hadn't had the time before or after work to actually buy her some.

And she thought of Jon and how thankful she was to have him now. Somehow she would have been fine without him. Sooner or later she would have found her way back to the world of the living. She would have gone to college again. She would have met someone new and maybe she would have fallen in love with him too.

But she doubted if there was anyone alive in this world who was as amazing as Jon was, who would let her love Robb still, even though he was gone now and would never come back.

"Jon?" Ilva walked to the hallway and stared at the colored frames with all the faces of the Stark Siblings and Ilva herself. "It's amazing." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his. "It's really truly absolutely totally amazing."

"The pictures?" Jon raised his eyebrows, but he wrapped an arm around her waist anyway.

"Everything." She whispered. "The pictures. The apartment. You."

Most of all him.