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Loras Tyrell was the perfect boyfriend. He was gorgeous and well dressed, had lots of cool friends, and they had so much in common. They could talk about anything from music to movies to their favorite poems. Even Sansa’s parents loved him—and they almost never liked their children’s partners, though maybe that was just because Jon had such bad taste.

They made the perfect couple, in short. Like—like something out of a movie. He was even taller than her, which didn’t happen too often. They looked really, ridiculously good together. There was only one problem. Actually, no; two problems.

One: Sansa was not exactly attracted to him.

Two: Loras was cheating on her.

The former wasn’t exactly news; Sansa had known it from the start. But she wasn’t really attracted to too many people at all, and he was so handsome, what did it matter? Kissing was nice, she could do that. They never did more than that anyway. And that would be because of, well, the second reason. Loras was gay.

Or—maybe not gay. Maybe bisexual or something. But that wasn’t the point. The point was that he was kissing Renly Baratheon.

Sansa had to clear her throat twice before they broke apart, Loras turning to look over his shoulder at where the noise had come from. When he saw her, he blushed immediately. Renly took a step away from the blonde, looking abashed.

“Sansa, this is… Um.” He swallowed thickly, which was a first. Loras was never at a loss for words.

“You said you wanted to talk,” she reminded him, blushing too, but feeling oddly calm—surely the panic would come later because oh gods, her boyfriend was gay.

“Yes, I, uh… Right,” Loras got out awkwardly, glancing over at Renly before back at her. “I think we should break up.”

Sunday brunches, cute text messages, coordinated outfits, sweet kisses, all gone in a second. Sansa looked away now, trying very desperately not to cry. Whether she was attracted to him or not, this had—it—it had been good. They were happy together, or at least she had been happy.

“Because you’re gay,” she summed up quietly.

Loras looked guilty, but he wasn’t taking anything back. “I haven’t lied to you or anything. It’s news to me too.”

“Yeah, I helped with that,” Renly chimed in from where he was casually leaning against the wall. “Sorry, Sansa.”

“No, it’s, um, it’s fine. I want you to be happy,” she said honestly. “And you make each other happy?”

Loras looked at Renly again, and his eyes softened the way they never had when he’d looked at Sansa. They both nodded.

“Well, that’s awesome. I’m going to go.” Before either of them could say anything else, she had turned around and left, barely resisting the urge to run. Luckily, her dorm wasn’t far from the quad where they’d met up, but when she got to the building, her hands were shaking too hard to unlock the door.

Fuck.”

“Do you need help with that?”

Sansa jumped, but forced a smile when she turned to the familiar voice. Margaery was kind, really, and they were maybe friends, but she was the last person Sansa wanted to see right now. Her and Loras were so close, she must’ve known, and—yes, she was looking at Sansa with pitying eyes. Gods, could it get more embarrassing?

“I got it, thanks,” she replied a bit stiffly, finally getting the door open. Margaery followed her in. Sansa expected the other girl to keep walking down the hall when they reached her room, but instead, Margaery just followed her in. Sansa sat down on her bed warily, looking up at the brunette. “It’s nice of you to want to talk to me, or whatever, but I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Margaery ignored that and sat down next to her, their knees bumping. “I feel like you need to talk about it,” she said gently.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Sansa pointed out. “Your brother is gay and we’ve broken up and—and that’s it.”

“You must be upset,” Margaery insisted, voice soft. “I know it must come as a shock.”

Sansa shrugged, staring down at the carpet. Of course it had been a shock—but why wasn’t she more upset about it? It bothered her, she supposed, but she hadn’t loved him. They hadn’t been in love. When she said nothing, Margaery just kept talking. “He feels awful, he really does… He is very fond of you. But his feelings for Renly were very confusing for him.”

“He never wanted to kiss me.”

Margaery patted her knee gently. “He told me that. He said to me, ‘Margaery, she’s beautiful, why can’t I love her?’ And you know what I said to him?”

Sansa finally looked up, shaking her head. Margaery smiled at her. “I told him that if he can’t love you, then he couldn’t love any woman.”

“You said that?” Sansa blushed again, but didn’t look away from the other girl. She was so kind to come here to comfort her, and she really did always know just the right thing to say. When Sansa fought with Arya, it was always Margaery she had gone to; not Loras.

“I did,” Margaery agreed, squeezing Sansa’s knee. “But that’s not all I wanted to talk to you about. Loras said…” she hesitated. “He said that you never seemed to want to kiss him either.”

“I—that’s…” Sansa’s blush deepened, and she dropped Margaery’s gaze. Why would Loras say that to her? And why would Margaery come asking her about it? She had liked kissing Loras, it had been nice, it wasn’t her fault he was gay. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Even in the face of Sansa’s denial, Margaery did not waver. “I’m not accusing you of anything; all I know is what he told me. He tried to explain to me that he thought you were beautiful, but he wasn’t attracted to you, and he thought you felt almost the same way about him.”

“Oh... He’s very handsome.”

Margaery laughed quietly, a very pretty sound. “Yes, but that’s beside the point.”

Sansa thought over her answer carefully before she spoke, her eyes fixed on her chipped nail polish. As much as she trusted Margaery, she was Loras’ sister, and that made things a thousand times more awkward. “He might have been right. I never… wanted him.”

“That’s totally okay,” Margaery reassured her, a smile in her voice, though Sansa did not look up. “I think maybe you have a few things to think about. Loras doesn’t like girls, and maybe…”

Maybe I don’t like boys. Sansa nodded, her face hot again.

When she looked back up, Margaery was tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and she smiled when their eyes met. Sansa couldn’t help but smile back, despite the turmoil in her head. But things were starting to click. Margaery bit her lip, and Sansa’s eyes darted down to stare.

Oh. 

Oh.