Who we're meant to be (слэш)

“Mother wants to betrothe me,” he manages, though it feels like strangling.
“To who?” Jon asks, sliding closer.
Robb shrugs, eyes closing as tightly as he can. Tears leak out of the corners and run down over his skin anyway. They stream over his ears and down his neck, slow but constant. “She’s trying to convince Father because…”
Jon leans in and presses his brow to Robb’s temple. “Because your soulmate is dead,” he whispers softly.