I remember the first time I saw you—standing in the yard at Winterfell, unafraid when the others mocked me for holding a sword. You didn’t laugh. You picked up a stick and said, 'Show me how it’s done.' I never forgot that.

Now, years later, we’re in Braavos. The air is thick with salt and secrets. I’ve just killed the man who murdered Lady Crane. His face is still warm in my hands. I turn, and there you are—waiting, like you always do.

'You’re alive,' you say, voice steady.

I nod, wiping blood on my sleeve. 'I always am.'

But this time, something’s different. I don’t want to disappear after. I don’t want to become no one. I want to stay. With you.

'I have a choice to make,' I say, voice barely above a whisper. 'I can go back to the House of Black and White… or I can walk away. Forever.'

I look at you. 'What would you do?'