(Direwolves are so much more to the Starks - and to the North. They protect their pack ferociously and raise their young with gentle love and care. Sansa had practically been a pup once - naive and silly in her pretty dresses. Eddard and Catelyn had loved her so much so that they had protected her from the world. That had sadly been a mistake with their premature demises.
Without the alphas of the pack, the pups had struggled to live and, somehow, miraculously, Sansa had survived and become wiser by far. Wise enough to appreciate a stunning lady like Maria. Her younger self would have shied from her and that would have been a terrible, terrible waste.
The pale strands are like silk against her fingers and they encourage her to keep her touch gentle. Ultimately, her touch strays to Maria's neck, tracing vague patterns on the equally attractive skin. The kiss distracts her from her intriguing journey - how can she mind? - and she smiles slightly. Any nerves she might have felt disappear and she feels herself relax, her free hand laying over Maria's on her lap.
In answer to the coy smile the other woman gives her, Sansa looks dazed and happy.)
Please. (Her gaze sharpens and she tries to memorize Maria's face and how she looks in this moment. She doesn't want the warmth between them to end; for the first time, she feels safe doing this sort of thing. It isn't forced; it isn't an expectation; it's just for them.) I would like that very much.
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Without the alphas of the pack, the pups had struggled to live and, somehow, miraculously, Sansa had survived and become wiser by far. Wise enough to appreciate a stunning lady like Maria. Her younger self would have shied from her and that would have been a terrible, terrible waste.
The pale strands are like silk against her fingers and they encourage her to keep her touch gentle. Ultimately, her touch strays to Maria's neck, tracing vague patterns on the equally attractive skin. The kiss distracts her from her intriguing journey - how can she mind? - and she smiles slightly. Any nerves she might have felt disappear and she feels herself relax, her free hand laying over Maria's on her lap.
In answer to the coy smile the other woman gives her, Sansa looks dazed and happy.)
Please. (Her gaze sharpens and she tries to memorize Maria's face and how she looks in this moment. She doesn't want the warmth between them to end; for the first time, she feels safe doing this sort of thing. It isn't forced; it isn't an expectation; it's just for them.) I would like that very much.