Myranda Royce was more stressed than she usually allowed herself to be and the reason for this stress was for the most part due to the fact that it was her final year at KLU. After seven years of various degrees, courses and positions within the University, her time there was finally nearing its end. Her final assignments were due, she had a couple of exams left to sit and she was just finishing up her very last article as editor of the student paper. She didn't really have time to become too sentimental about it as she sat at her desk, alone in the newspaper's small office, due to a certain red headed distraction out in the corridor.
Sansa Stark was making her seventeenth or so pass of the open doorway, a look of embarrassed agitation matched with a warring expression on her face, the girl hesitating awkwardly before huffing in frustration at herself and storming passed the door again, the pattern continuing in a repetitive loop. Randa was finding it awfully distracting, only managing to proofread a couple of lines at a time before the Northerner would appear at the door again.
"Stark!" Randa barked when the girl appeared at the doorway yet again, making the younger girl jump slightly, clearly unaware that Randa had noticed her fluctuating presence. "You don't have to speak straight away but take a fucking seat because you are doing my head in!" Randa snapped without malice, gaze fixed on the screen.
"Oh, hey Randa." Sansa replied with false nonchalance as she took a hesitant step into the open doorway.
Randa didn't even bother responding, instead merely pointing imperiously to the seat opposite her on the other side of her desk.
Sansa hung her head and took the offered seat meekly. The Northerner sat silently, ringing her hands in her lap as Randa finished drafting her article.
Randa had been a TA in one of Sansa's sophomore classes which is how they'd met and they'd been good friends ever since. Randa had even convinced Sansa to start writing for the university’s newspaper that after witnessing her written articulation and dry wit, encouraging Sansa as required to assure her that she was much better than she gave herself credit for.
After her editing was done Randa took a deep, calming breath before lacing her fingers together and bracing her elbows on the table, considering the Junior she was quite fond of magnanimously. "So, my little northern bloom, how can I help?" Randa teased.
Sansa leaned forward, mouth opening to speak but her words failed her. Her face was steadily turning scarlet and she wouldn't meet Randa’s eye as she floundered. 'This should be good.' Randa thought with a wry smirk.
"I...I...I was wanting to get some advice from you." Sansa finally managed to choke out, laying her hands out on the desk and studying them intently.
"O-kay?" Randa drew out evenly, inflection curious.
"I mean...I suppose advice isn't quite the right word. 'Tips', I guess, would be more...appropriate." Sansa corrected herself, failing to illuminate Randa in anyway.
"Tips on what?" Randa asked, starting to lose her patience slightly.
"On...on...uh…" Sansa delayed, looking behind her suddenly to confirm that the door was closed before leaning forward to whisper with a conspiratorial tone, "Oral sex."
Randa started to laugh heartily at that, head dropping forward, her hair obscuring her view of the Junior for a moment. "Sweetling, I have not had a penis in my mouth since 205 so I am not the best person to ask for advice on the fine art of the blow job." Randa announced heartily, smile still wide with gleeful amusement.
Sansa shoulders hunched slightly at the laughter, making Randa feel slightly guilty at her reaction. "I never said anything about...fellatio." Sansa argued calmly back, if not completely mortified.
Randa snorted at Sansa's clinical terminology before her brain caught up with what she was saying rather than just the vocabulary, the older girl’s face pinching in confusion. "You said..." Randa started then trailed off, playing the words back to herself. Sansa looked at her, tilting her head significantly and it suddenly clicked in her head. "Oh."
Sansa shrugged, seemingly trying to breathe deeply enough to banish the blood from her face.
"That's...new?" Randa asked, at a loss of what else to say.
"Yeah." Sansa answered uncertainly, looking uncomfortable as she crossed her arms defensively on the desk in front of her.
"I'm sorry." Randa shook out her curls, holding her hands up. "I am not being cool right now. I'm just a little surprised...and not just because of...what you're asking. As close as we are, I figured you would go to Tyrell for a question like that...even though I could totally out-orgasm her without breaking a sweat." Randa argued evenly, unable to leave her competitiveness lie despite the more serious implications of the conversation content.
At this, Sansa's face flamed even worse than before and Randa was starting to put all of the pieces together. "Ah. So, Tyrell?" Randa trailed off when Sansa nodded awkwardly. "Oh. Damn!" Randa smiled widely at Sansa again, hoping to break the tension.
"What?" Sansa asked, agitated.
"If I’d have known that you were open to a lil' lesbian love, I might have taken a pop at you myself." Randa stated flatly, having the desired effect, causing Sansa to burst out laughing and forget her embarrassment, however briefly.
It took the redhead a moment to catch her breath but when she calmed her mirth, she looked much more relaxed than she had before. "It's not really...I mean...I'm not gay!" Sansa announced and Randa noted that it didn't sound like the normal, self-hating, closeted denials. "It's just...her." Sansa finished simply, a far off sappy look coming to her face causing Randa to roll her eyes and cough pointedly.
Sansa shook herself from her stupor and shrugged her shoulders, clearly not able to give a better explanation than that.
"Okay then." Randa conceded, smiling at Sansa's obvious happiness. "So, how much do you know?" Randa asked dispassionately, attempting to make the discussion somewhat light-hearted.
Sansa looked slightly confused again, forgetting where they were in the conversation.
"About...cunnilungus." Randa tried not to laugh as she used the more technical terminology for the Northerner’s benefit.
"Well...I mean, she has...to me but…but I've not...I've not...I've yet to..." Sansa stuttered, using her hands in the most unintentionally hilarious illustration to her words.
"Okay." Randa interrupted quickly, uncertain that she could keep her composure if Sansa continued on with her accidental mime show. "So, she's done it to you but..." Randa paused, searching out Sansa's logic, "...you want to bring something to the table that she's not taught you?"
"Yeah! Yes." Sansa confirmed, face excited with the apparent lack of explanation required on her part. "I don't want to just...recycle her moves. And you..." Sansa trailed off again. Randa merely raised an eyebrow, daring her to finish. Sansa sighed, her face only a light pink now. "You have a reputation for...knowing what you're doing." Sansa praised, smiling wryly, knowing that Randa just wanted to hear her say it.
Randa nodded with false modesty, shaking out her bouncy brown curls exuberantly as she put a dramatically coy hand to her chest. "Yeah. Okay then. So you want to blow her out of the water with moves you've not copied from her." Randa summarised to confirm that she was working off of the correct interpretation, to which Sansa nodded in affirmation. "So, the most efficient way of doing this is if you tell me exactly what Tryrell..."
"No way!" Sansa refused immediately, shaking her head firmly, bringing her crossed arms to her chest as she leaned back in her seat.
"Oh, come on, Stark! I am the consummate professional." Randa reasoned evenly.
Sansa merely continued to shake her head.
"So, you really want me to give you 'The Dummies Guide to Oral'? Everything from the beginning?" Randa asked, face showing her decided lack of enthusiasm for being near such a novice conversation.
Sansa gave her a silent, expectant look and Randa threw her head back with a groan. "Fine!"
Sansa walked back to the flat a little shell shocked and slightly queasy from the lack of blood flow to areas of her body other than her face. Randa had been...thorough in her guidance, describing things that Sansa seriously doubted that she had the manual dexterity to pull off but she listened eagerly all the same, pairing it with her knowledge garnered from her own...research.
She had it all somewhat worked out in her head. Margaery should be home from the studio by now and would probably be sitting on their sofa, mindlessly staring at her days work and critiquing it, strategizing in her head how tomorrow's work would go. Sansa will sneak up behind her and whisper something suggestive in her ear so that Margaery will follow her into Margaery's bedroom and, there, Sansa will put into practice her newly cultivated knowledge.
Sansa took a bracing breath before putting her key in the door.
When Sansa walked into the living room, as she'd expected, Margaery was sat on their sofa, critically eyeing the work she'd laid out on their coffee table. However, as soon as the door opened, Margaery turned her full attention to Sansa immediately, smiling widely and twisting so that she was kneeling on the sofa and facing Sansa. "Hey." She enthused eagerly.
"Hey." Sansa smiled back as she kicked off her shoes, albeit with slightly less enthusiasm as Margaery had effectively scuttled the practice run she'd had in her head.
"What?" Margaery asked cautiously yet amused, tilting her head to the side in a questioning manner.
"What?" Sansa echoed back, attempting to look and sound casual. 'Never my strong suit.' Sansa conceded silently.
"You look like I've ruined something you've been planning in your head." Margaery replied without a hint of irony.
Sansa looked down, slightly alarmed. 'She knows me too well.'
"And now you think that I know you too well." Margaery tacked on knowingly, a wry smile now in place, making Sansa huff slightly at her predictability. "I think it works marvellously for us though. I can't bullshit you and you can't fob me off with false proclamations of you being 'fine'. So?" Margaery questioned expectantly.
"I'm...good." Sansa teased, coming around the sofa to collapse on the sofa next to Margaery, suddenly exhausted.
"Really?" Margaery asked, unconvinced.
"Really." Sansa confirmed, leaning in and throwing a dramatic arm around Margaery before kissing her sleepily.
"Fine!" Margaery thankfully let it slide on this occasion in lieu kissing Sansa back for a calm, blissful moment before pulling back. "You're late. Where've you been? With one of your other lovers?" Margaery teased, running the tip of her nose along Sansa's jawline.
"Yes. It's getting more and more difficult to schedule you all so there's no overlap." Sansa teased back evenly, giggling when Margaery pouted her lips and pinched her bum in punishment for her cheek.
Margaery kissed her harshly in teasing anger before the teasing abated and the want increased. Margaery rolled on top of Sansa, pinning her firmly against the soft cushions as her hands trailed down Sansa's body with purpose before rubbing her fingers between her legs.
Sansa breath caught at that and her mind began to fog as Margaery began to work her magic.
‘Wait! I cannot afford for my head to go foggy if I'm going to get through this without embarrassing myself!’ Sansa thought desperately before she spun them over, intending roll on top of Margaery but forgetting that they weren't, in fact, in Margaery bed, resulting in the manoeuvre swiftly landing them both on the floor, Sansa winding Margaery as she landed heavily on top of her.
"Oooof!" Margaery choked out in surprise, amber-brown eyes going wide in shock.
"Sorry. Sorry!" Sansa apologised immediately, pushing herself up to rest on her elbows, hovering over the brunette anxiously. "Are you okay?"
"Are you okay?" Margaery choked out, expression confused.
"Yes. I promise. I just...I forgot that we weren't in your bed." Sansa explained lamely, helping Margaery up before running her hands through the older girl's golden-brown tresses soothingly.
Margaery smiled back grudgingly, still not entirely convinced but her hands imitated Sansa's just the same, stroking through her thick, auburn hair reverently. "So, should we take this to my bed then? You can roll me around all you want there without fear of causing injury." Margaery teased, smile smarmy as she pressed up onto her toes to kiss Sansa’s lips lightly.
Sansa huffed out a grudging laugh but her mirth did not last for long. "I don't think I can wait." Sansa replied seriously, pushing Margaery slightly so that she had no choice but to sit back on the sofa.
Margaery smirked in approval, eyes hungrily considering Sansa standing over her yet still maintaining the confidence of a predator.
'Shit!' Sansa swore internally when she realised her new problem.
"Yes?" Margaery asked.
"I...uh...I need you stand up again so that I can take your clothes off." Sansa explained with a proud posture though her face turned a little pink. 'Gods! That was almost cool! Why can't I ever be cool?' Sansa lamented silently.
Margaery stood up slowly, eyes bubbling with laughter. "Yes, Teacher." She replied cheekily, biting her lip and lifting her arms in compliance though the gesture was also clearly a silent order.
Sansa giggled, laughing as she always did when Margaery made her ‘Sexy-Teacher’ jokes.
Sansa smirked and stepped closer, leaning her face into Margaery's and pressing their noses together so that every breath that escaped Sansa was released into Margaery's skin, every blink caused her eyelashes to tickle down Margaery's cheek, making Margaery release a shaky breath against Sansa own skin. Sansa ran a fingertip across the sliver of belly left exposed by the hem of Margaery's shirt until the older girl's arms jerked slightly in response, only then did Sansa catch the hem in her fingers and lift it upwards, purposefully trailing her fingers along Margaery’s skin as she went.
Almost immediately Sansa's hands went to the bun in Margaery's hair to release the brown locks from their captivity, running her hands through it reverently to let the curls spill down Margaery's back and chest.
"You're so beautiful, Marge." Sansa proclaimed on a whisper against the soft skin of her girlfriend's cheek.
"Sansa." Margaery sighed back before pressing up on her tiptoes slightly to capture her lips.
Sansa immediately returned the kiss, allowing her hands to trail downwards and begin to undo the buckle to Margaery's belt, pushing the shorts over her rump eagerly when she broke the kiss in surprise, realising that there was nothing else to remove.
"Like I said, I was expecting you home ages ago." Margaery smirked, unrepentant.
Sansa smirked back in return, determined not to be cowed by her girlfriend’s devious ploy. Sansa leaned down slightly, wrapping her arms around Margaery's thighs and hoisting her up so that their hips were aligned and Margaery's feet were dangling uselessly above the floor, the older girl having no choice but to wrap her legs around Sansa's hips.
Sansa would have liked to have seen Margaery's expression in that moment but the wish was made impossible by the fact that Sansa had her lips firmly pressed to the skin of Margaery's neck, though the Highgardener’s surprised squeak was awfully satisfying as a consolation prize.
Sansa crawled onto the sofa on her knees before slowly lowering Margaery onto the plush cushions, pressing her weight down on top of her insistently and attacking her neck with more purpose.
"Oooh. Sans." Margaery sighed against the crown of Sansa's head. "This is...new." Margaery choked out while Sansa lifted Margaery's thigh to wrap around her waist again before pressing her own hips firmly into the cradle of Margaery's.
"Is that a good thing?" Sansa asked teasingly, the way that Margaery was arching into her the only answer she truly needed.
"Anything you do is automatically a fabulous thing." Margaery keened eagerly, fingers tugging on Sansa's hair semi-painfully. Sansa chuckled as she nibbled on the skin over Margaery's sternum before releasing the front catch of Margaery’s bra, pulling the material aside to reveal Margaery's breasts to her gaze.
Sansa did not mind admitting that she was a little bit obsessed with her girlfriend's chest. Margaery found her fascination hilarious considering that Sansa would barely class herself as bisexual yet could spend hours tracing her fingers, lips and tongue over the supple flesh of her girlfriend’s breasts.
"And some things, gloriously, stay the same." Margaery mused over her head, a breathy laugh in her voice.
Sansa smiled in return before pinching one nipple between her fingers and dragging her teeth along the other simultaneously.
Margaery jerked at that and let out a choked giggle.
After a few minutes of Sansa's mouth on her chest, fingers trailing over her body and hips grinding into hers, Margaery was a flushed, panting, frustrated mess. "Sansa." Margaery panted weakly. "Please touch me." Margaery begged softly.
"I am touching you." Sansa countered, dragging her fingernails up the thigh that was wrapped around her hip pointedly.
Margaery huffed and tried to roll them over, essentially ending Sansa's advantage, but Sansa was not ready to withdraw, bracing her limbs to prevent Margaery's action causing the Southerner to whine petulantly.
"Use your words." Sansa cooed with false calm.
Margaery grunted, grabbing Sansa's hand and forcing it down her body, between their hips to where Margaery was wet for her. "Touch me here, Sansa."
Sansa smirked and let her fingertips press slowly between Margaery's folds and against her clitoris. "Is that the only way you want me to touch you?" Sansa panted directly into Margaery's ear.
Margaery groaned tightly though her brow scrunched in confusion. "What?"
"Would you have me use my mouth on you, Margaery? Is that what you want?" Sansa asked roughly, too turned on to be embarrassed of the words spilling from her mouth.
"I..." Margaery choked out and Sansa could see the conflict on her face before their eyes met. "I want whatever you feel comfortable with." She managed to get out, biting her lip harshly, clearly consumed with the new prospect that Sansa was now hinting at.
Sansa smiled fondly at her earnestness, leaning in eagerly to reward her with a searing kiss that was just as eagerly returned.
They kissed for a long moment before Sansa broke it drag her lips down Margaery's neck, then her collarbones, chest and stomach, settling finally at her hips. Margaery's thighs were quivering already, the flesh rippling hypnotically. It was during this examination that Sansa noticed for the first time a small birthmark on the crease between Margaery's thighs and hips and Sansa was struck with the sudden urge to press a biting kiss there and pull the skin into her mouth.
It was only Margaery's squeak and the fact that she nearly kneed Sansa in the head that caused Sansa to realise that she had acted on her impulse without conscious thought.
"Ticklish, are we?" Sansa asked dazedly, the lusty fog partially leaving her head at the whiplash caused by Margaery's harsh jerk.
"You can't call it 'ticklish' when you've set every nerve-ending on fire first!" Margaery accused through clenched teeth, brunette head thrashing harshly.
Sansa said nothing, choosing not to delay any further.
Sansa lowered herself downwards again, this time avoiding being distracted by Margaery delectable birthmark and hesitantly pressing her tongue to Margaery's clitoris.
Margaery let out a big whoosh of air, as if she had been holding it the whole time. ‘Maybe since we started dating.’ Sansa thought with half-amusement and half-pity.
Sansa made her tongue slowly trail downwards, delving smoothly along Margaery’s flesh while she keened and sighed. 'She tastes like I taste...nearly. Similar but different.' Sansa noted absently, tongue probing deeper of its own accord to be certain. Margaery's fingers curled in Sansa's dark red hair at that, pulling her head closer as she rolled her hips and let out a sigh. Sansa did not mind Margaery's guiding actions, knowing that her girlfriend was impatient and lost her laidback attitude when it came to her own pleasure.
Randa's words from earlier suddenly sounded in her head, coaching her on.
"Teeth. There's nothing wrong with some teeth. I mean, don't gnaw on anything down there as it's generally quite a sensitive area but a little nibble or graze never hurt anyone."
Sansa cautiously removed her tongue from Margaery's entrance, giggling slightly as she resisted the older girl’s imperious push on her head, silently ordering her to return to what she had been doing. Margaery huffed slightly but then moaned and jerked when Sansa lightly and carefully grazed her teeth over Margaery’s bundle of nerves.
“Oh gods, Sansa!” Margaery groaned loudly.
Sansa hid her smirk, sucking the flesh into her mouth slightly, allowing her teeth and tongue alternate their focused attentions.
Sansa cast her eyes upwards and was struck by the sight that Margaery made, sprawled out and glowing like a goddess. Margaery's amber gaze was dark with her stare intensely focused on Sansa, looking into her eyes lustfully while she let out deep breaths through her flared nostrils; Sansa had to look away, nearly embarrassed at a look of such dark intensity and want directed at her.
"I need your fingers too, Sansa." Margaery choked out, chest heaving.
Sansa complied, slipping two fingers into Margaery easily while she keened, dragging them in and out of her and curling them slightly as Margaery had taught her she liked best.
"I swear, I've never had inappropriate thoughts about Sabitha Vypren.' Myranda had stated earlier before pulling her crossed fingers from behind her back to negate the statement with a smirk.
Sansa returned the tip of her tongue to Margaery's clitoris again before crossing her fingers, feeling Margaery's inner walls resisting the action slightly.
“Ahh!” Margaery groaned as she threw her head back, saving Sansa’s scalp by releasing one of her hands from Sansa’s hair and instead clawing it into the blanket thrown over the back of the sofa.
Sansa continued to thrust her fingers and stroke her tongue as she became uncomfortably hot, still fully clothed and pressed against Margaery's heated skin.
"A purely personal preference but I like to spell stuff out with my tongue on a girl's clit. It's like sexy-scrabble, figuring out which letters work best."
‘I like Scrabble.’ Sansa thought to herself, deciding to spell out Margaery’s name in capital letters. Sansa noted that Margaery’s foot, thrown over her hip still, would press into Sansa’s lower back harshly on certain letters; G, E and Y to be exact and after completing the S for Sansa, the redhead realised that Margaery was more sensitive on the underside of her clitoris so started to run through the alphabet, switching from capital to lower case as and when the occasion called for it to abuse this newfound knowledge.
Sansa got to Z when Margaery came with a yell that was louder than usual, her hands holding Sansa's head against her desperately as she ground her hips on Sansa’s fingers through the last of her orgasm.
Sansa pressed a few parting kisses to Margaery's thighs, including her new favourite birthmark before she braced herself on her arms, hovering over Margaery, a slightly smug smile on her lips.
Margaery's eyes were dilated to a point that nearly diminished the warm amber from her stare entirely and they were fixed on Sansa squarely.
Suddenly, Margaery dived at her, spinning them clear off the sofa, causing them to fall onto the floor for the second time in an hour with a thud, Sansa now winded as Margaery landed on top of her. Everything was Margaery then; her lips kissing her violently, teeth clashing and tongue invading her mouth, seeking out her own taste.
Margaery kept one hand curled possessive in Sansa's thick mane of auburn hair while the other clawed down her body harshly, fingers reaching under her skirt, pushing her knickers aside carelessly and sliding two fingers inside of Sansa without preamble.
Sansa let out a squeak of surprise that quickly turned into a small moan of pleasure that rumbled even deeper when Margaery bit harshly into the flesh of Sansa’s neck. Sansa went to push her away automatically out of habit when Margaery pulled back only far enough to press her forehead against Sansa’s temple. “You said your neck was all mine once term was over; didn’t you?” She challenged tightly.
Sansa panted as she considered that. ‘Term is over now so I don’t have to worry about how inappropriate it is to turn up at school with love bites all over my neck.’ Sansa acknowledged internally so nodded her head in response. Margaery went in again and this time began to suck on the skin harshly, clearly intending to leave a mark. Sansa nearly sobbed at how good it felt, bringing her hand up to card through Margaery’s hair lightly.
Margaery removed her fingers suddenly and went to her knees, sitting on her heels before tugging Sansa roughly by the hips so that they were aligned, ripping off the younger girl’s small clothes with determination before pushing her fingers inside of the redhead again, keeping her other hand on Sansa thigh for leverage. Margaery considered Sansa with an intense stare as her fingers began to work furiously between Sansa’s legs, faster and harder than she ever had before, making Sansa pant and her fingers curl into the rug.
“Unbutton your top.” Margaery commanded imperiously. Sansa struggled to get her fingers to coordinate but eventually managed to get the buttons undone and the material to fall off to either side of her torso. Margaery's gaze now alternated intermittently between Sansa’s face, chest and her own fingers moving quickly in and out of her.
"I think you liked doing that to me." Margaery panted, voice thick, her fingers continuing their merciless pace as the thumb of her other hand came up to press firmly on Sansa's clitoris. "I think you really liked doing that to me." Margaery smirked, clearly enjoying how easily her fingers were sliding into her girlfriend. Sansa let out a small moan but said nothing. “Did you? Did you enjoy making me cum that hard?”
Sansa felt her face flame, not used to Margaery speaking to her so crassly but not averse either. “Yes.” Sansa choked out.
“Such a naughty girl.” Margaery smirked her smuggest smirk at Sansa and the Northerner felt her legs to turn to jelly.
“Yes, Teacher.” Sansa retorted, throat tight though her cheeks still managed to pinch into a small smile.
Margaery’s intensity finally broke enough for a more simple smile to crest across her beautiful face and she let out a small laugh. Margaery's fingers continued their relentless action despite the softer look in Margaery’s expression and it did not take long for Sansa to break apart, head thrown back silently. Margaery slowed her fingers pace at last only to lean forward and suck Sansa’s clitoris between teeth while her tongue pressed forward causing Sansa to peak again.
“Oh my gods.” Sansa panted with her eyes closed as she batted Margaery’s head away blindly when she recovered her motor functions.
“Damn. I thought I had you that time.” Margaery lamented, nuzzling Sansa’s belly before draping herself over her girlfriend and cuddling into her side.
Sansa chuckled, running her fingertips over Margaery shoulder. “It’s really not a challenge. I’m just not the screamer you seem to think I am.”
“I just need to try harder.” Margaery pressed directly into Sansa’s neck, voice taking on a competitive edge.
Sansa huffed in amusement and trepidation, running her hands down Margaery’s arm and fingers through her hair as she tried to catch her breath.
Margaery was purring contentedly and breathing deeply, enjoying the comfortable and calming silence.
"Are you falling asleep?" Sansa asked softly in amusement.
"No." Margaery yawned, burrowing herself in deeper to Sansa’s neck.
"Well, could you not fall asleep on my other shoulder please?" Sansa asked gently, feeling her right shoulder begin to ache faintly.
Margaery huffed slightly at having to move from her comfy position, bracing herself on her hands to shuffle herself over to Sansa’s other side, pressing a sleepy kiss to her collarbone before curling up again, tangling their legs together.
Sansa continued to caress Margaery’s skin as she slept, happy and content. After a while Margaery began to shiver slightly and burrow herself in closer to Sansa’s clothed side. Sansa looked around and saw Old Nan’s blanket on the back of the sofa but lay too far out of reach, especially with Margaery’s weight pinning her to the floor. The redhead lifted her leg with a grunt and managed to hook the corner of the blanket with her toes, pulling it towards them victoriously. Sansa slowly unfolded the warm blanket, careful not to disturb her snoozing girlfriend, before spreading it out over the both of them, sighing in satisfaction as she wrapped her arms around Margaery again.
The sun had set before Sansa felt inclined to break to cosy silence. "Marge?" Sansa whispered, unsurprised when Margaery didn’t stir, her girlfriend being a notoriously heavy-sleeper.
She enjoyed these moments. In her waking state, Margaery was not a fan of silences, comfortable or not, so these were one of those rare moments of peaceful contemplation that Sansa was afforded, able to look her fill of Margaery without risk of the older girl noticing and teasing her mercilessly. Sansa’s sapphire stare studied the Highgarderner closely from her heart shaped face, the bow shape of her lips, adorable button nose and smooth, unblemished brow and she felt something nearly suffocating in it’s intensity swell in her chest. Sansa had not thought that she would ever be able to feel this way about another human being. It had all seemed so cruelly impossible after how Joffrey had treated her, her first and only foray into love, though with age she could admit to herself that it was more of an unhealthy worship of Joffrey rather than love. She always hoped that, given time, she would be able to find something true and real, the type of love that she had always imagined herself having as a little girl but she didn’t think it likely. Even if Sansa had thought it likely that such a thing was possible for her, she doubted that she would ever be able to really trust that someone wasn’t just a superb actor like Joffrey had been.
She had gone on a few dates with boys after starting university but nothing that really surpassed a moon’s turn as she always held a bit of herself back; she had not held herself back from Margaery in quite come time. Maybe it was because they had been friends for so long that Margaery had been able to burrow herself so deeply into Sansa’s affections as skilfully and easily as she just had into her embrace. Sansa had never felt that her heart needed protection from Margaery.
Margaery was not Joffrey.
"I love you." Sansa whispered softly, pressing the words as gently as butterfly wings into the skin of Margaery’s brow.
Margaery did not open her amber eyes suddenly, did not smile, did not hold her tighter; did not stir at all. That was how it needed to be for now. Margaery might be an expert in a great many things but relationships were not one of them. A healthy relationship was a new thing for Sansa but a relationship at all was something so terribly out of Margaery’s comfort zone that Sansa did not want to spook her with her declaration too soon.
‘That’s fine.’ Sansa thought to herself sleepily as she hugged Margaery closer to her still. ‘Saying it is just for me right now.’ Sansa thought happily.