"Let me tell you something, ironborn, I'm not like those disgusting little sluts of yours. Pretty words and fake promises won't work on me."

That's what they all say.

"If you're looking for a quick fuck then go look into those bedwarmers. I'm sure they'd be glad as hell."

"I'm not looking for a quick fuck," he promises, taking your hand in his, "I want something real."

You look taken aback and he knows the battle is all but won. There were some girls like you. Stubborn ones, who pretended to know what love really was but he had bedded other girls like you. It had only taken a simple line like that to get their small cloths in a twist, soon, wet and begging him to take them.

"I want something real." or "You're the only girl I want." Other lines of that sort, that would make even the toughest of girls melt. Theon had been playing this game for as long as he could remember.

"Theon...I-I had no idea," you stutter.

"Now you know," he says and ever so gently leans down, to take your, presumably, first kiss.

You kick his shin with all the strength you can muster.

"Son of a-" He glares up at you, nursing his probably bruised leg, "what the hell was that for?"

"I told you not to think of me as one of your dirty little sluts," you smirk triumphantly, "don't think you've been the only one so far who's been using lines like that on me."

A stab of jealousy enters his heart. "What?"

"You ought to step up your game, Greyjoy. You're not the only one looking to bed me."