A/N - This chapter was requested by user: @angelmazzello. It is based on the song 'Lay it on me' by Vance Joy. I hope you all enjoy it.
Creeping out of bed was always easier than you expected it to be. Robb had always been a pretty deep sleeper, and slipping out from under his arm to sneak over to the desk in the corner of your chambers was pretty simple. Writing the note was just as easy. Your thoughts had always spilled onto the paper with ease, and then hiding it in the pocket on his breaches was a quick task.
Getting back into bed was another matter; huddling yourself back into his embrace without startling him awake would be harder work than intended. Most days you managed to do so, getting another hours sleep before either of you would consider waking naturally. Other mornings, he would wake at your movements, mumbling something or other as he attempted to figure out why you were incapable of staying still.
This morning, he had woken when you'd slipped back into his grip, his arms tightening as he pulled you closer to him. "Awake already?" he uttered, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath.
"I was cold," you answered softly as he pulled away, drawing you into a soft kiss. "Had to close the shutters," you added, lifting a hand to brush over his chin, scratching at his beard.
He hummed at your words, dragging you even closer to his body and pulling the covers up to shelter you. "Better?"
You released a soft chuckle. "A thousand times so," you told him, moving your hands under his shirt to press your icy palms to his warm stomach. He flinched at the contact, releasing a small gasp as his eyes shot open to look at you, as though he had never felt such betrayal before. "You're warm," you murmured, fighting back the laughter that wanted to escape you.
Robb's face softened as his skin acclimatised to the sudden drop in temperature. "You are so lucky I love you." You were both quiet for a moment, huddled together under the covers and perfectly content in one another's company. "Were you sneaking me notes again?"
You smiled slightly, shifting to press your face to his shoulder. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Then someone else must be writing me sweet little love letters," he told you softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "And they've been hiding them in my trousers, too."
"They ought to be careful," you teased, listening to him hum slightly above you. "I can be awfully territorial when it comes to my husband." He released a snort of laughter, and suddenly you were sitting up, staring at him in mock surprise. "I'll have you know, I am one of the most jealous women in Westeros. Heavens know what I would do if I found the culprit."
He smiled, stretching out his arms for you. "They'd be quaking in their boots if they could hear you." You poked your tongue out at him, causing another burst of laughter to escape him. "I thought you were cold," he uttered, once both of you had fallen silent again.
You nodded, lowering yourself back into his embrace and pressing a light kiss to his chin. "Do you like the notes?"
"Well, that depends on who's been writing them, doesn't it?" he uttered, his arms wrapped around you in a gentle embrace. "If they are from some stranger, I do not like them at all." He paused for a moment, his fingers drawing a pattern down your spine. "But if they are from my beautiful, thoughtful wife, then they are my favourite part of the day."
A smile pulled at your lips, hidden from your husband's eyes. "Truly?"
"Absolutely," he murmured. "One a good day, they make everything sweeter. On a bad day, they make the world seem kinder."
"Robb," you uttered, waiting for him to hum his recognition. "I write the notes."
Though you couldn't see his face from your position, you knew he was smiling. It was an expression that you loved on him, not that there was ever a time you didn't love his face. "I know, Angel."
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