Sansa sighs a contented sound as she nuzzles her face into my chest, one arm over my middle and her legs tangled with mine.

That dark place within me allowed my thoughts to wander to the possibility she would run at the first opportunity. Perhaps it was all bull, the honesty, the promise of more. My heart was in my throat waiting for her to get up, dress and leave, once the fucking was over.

I can feel every bone and muscle in my body loosen as I look down at Sansa, comfortable and happy in my arms. It seems as if she wouldn't rather be anywhere else. The feeling is mutual.

Lacing the fingers of one hand with hers and trailing the fingertips of the other up and down her back, I've never felt so calm in all my life.

"You didn't have any plans for the rest of the weekend did you?" She asks against my skin after a few more minutes of quiet.

I meet her gaze and furrow my brow. "No. Why?"

Sansa smiles at me and turns to kiss my shoulder. "I was hoping we could stay right here, until forced otherwise."

I laugh out loud in delight. "Aye, you read my mind little bird." I respond before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

This might not be the right time but I can't stop myself. "Sansa, can I ask you something?"

It's her turn to look confused and maybe a tad wary. "Of course."

"When we spoke earlier, of the past, I sort of thought you'd have someone else to mention." I start with, hoping she'll catch my drift, maybe I can skip past my query all together. No such luck.

"Like?" She presses me.

I sigh, feeling like a tool. "Well, you've said your book is based on your life. I was wondering who the lucky bastard at the end is about?"

Recognition flashes over Sansa's face before she giggles. "Oh!" She squeaks out in between laughter. "I forget about that sometimes."

I feel my eyes widen like saucers as she continues.

"Only because it's the one truly, purely fictional aspect of the story. Everything else might be altered or elaborated but the new love interest is solely from my imagination."

"I see." I say to her with a nod and a feeling of inner relief. Jealous of a fake man, great Clegane, just great. "Why did you add it in?"

Sansa sighs. "My story flowed from me with ease. It was the best therapy I had at the time. No offense to my doctor who is fabulous, but this was about me, from me and for me." She's turned serious now and I worry I've ruined our post coital bliss.

"However, towards the end, when everything restarts on a hopefully new and better path for me, it felt a little empty in the novel. Yes, it's based on my life but I realized they didn't need to mirror each other completely."

"I was in a limbo area with love and how I felt about it. Plus, I had everyone around me, my manager, publisher, editor, reminding me that this first book would set the tone and theme for my career and I had to think about that carefully. Did I want to end the story as it was? Yes, life was looking up but would the readers be happy enough with that?"

Sansa shakes her head. "There was so much going on, not just in my career but I was still healing and becoming stronger myself, so, I went with the silver lining, the slightly more positive ending. And I'm glad that I did. It was nice to give someone, that was supposed to be me, the ending many hope for after they've suffered." Sansa smiles and the mood starts to lighten again.

"I decided to add chapter..." She pauses thinking, and I have to bite my tongue to stop myself from interjecting forty, it's chapter forty!as not to seem like some freak.

"Forty, right." She remembers. "I added in that scene because I didn't want the last sexual encounter the heroine had to be a negative one. I know that abuse survivors have read my book and I don't want them to believe it's all awful, painful or scary. It seemed to go over well." She finishes, as if she isn't talking about pages that have kept me up at night.

"And it still hits me sometimes, that even though I write for others, to entertain them, to help them or to relate to them, I'm one of those "others". I need to be positive for myself. This." She says and gives me a squeeze around my waist. "I've wanted this to be real for me too."

I clear my throat and cover the emotions bubbling up with a cough before I can even reply. "And you're happy?"

Sansa tilts her head back to meet my eyes. "The happiest." I know that no words will escape me right now, just pitiful sounds, so I don't bother trying, instead I drag my hand up her body and into her hair, bringing my face to hers for a long, deep kiss.

By the third stroke of her tongue against mine, my cock is hard and standing tall, resting on my belly button once more. Sansa moves to hover over me and deepen the kiss, causing the hand on my abdomen to brush my weeping head.

"Ohh." She pulls back, biting her swollen bottom lip. "Again?"

I can't stifle my groan. "Not too sore?" No matter how badly I fucking want her, I refuse to ever hurt Sansa.

She looks down at my chest, smiling for a moment before meeting my gaze again. "It's a good sore, not painful."

Her honest admission makes my dick pulse and I pin Sansa to my chest, kissing the breath out of her as her hand grasps my length.

I devour her as my own slips down her taut body to the heat between her thighs. Sansa is sticky with our mixed orgasms and dripping wet with her renewed arousal.

"Fuck little bird, you do want this." I can attempt to downplay her words and certain actions, but her body's reaction to me, without even touching her, is undeniable.

Sansa moans from my ministrations to her engorged clit. "So much, ohhh, I want you so much." She never loses her rhythm over my shaft as she starts grinding her hips to meet my fingers that are now inside of her.

I remove my digits and flip us over quickly, growling, her words affecting some place deep within me. Kneeling between her bent legs, I line my tip with her entrance and bottom out with one powerful thrust.

"Fuck!" I roar. Sansa feels as good as I remember, tight and hot and so bloody wet.

"Sandor!" She moans.

I barely allow us to catch our breath before sliding my hands under Sansa's ass, lifting her off the bed and pounding into her. She has her head thrown back, moaning and whimpering, her knuckles white from grasping the sheets.

I've never had such damn trouble not spilling like a green boy but Sansa is ruining me in several ways it seems. Leaning down I suck on and drag my teeth across each of her nipples, making her cry out and her cunt gush down my cock. I know I'll finish too soon at this rate and even though it almost hurts, I pull out of her.

Sansa's head snaps up to see what's wrong but before she can utter a word, I throw her legs back over my shoulders to suck on and lap at her clit long enough to bring myself back from the edge.

"Sandor, fuck." Sansa's cursed moan doesn't really help the situation.

When she begins trembling I hoist her legs higher, her dainty toes touching my ears, and slowly slide back inside of her. I choke out her name, squeezing an ankle with one hand as the fingers of the other rub her hardened clit.

Sansa is clawing at my arms, her back bowed and pussy muscles clenching me. "Yes! Harder Sandor, please." She begs.

I slam my hips against hers, my balls slapping her ass and Sansa's breasts bouncing from the force. I keep up a relentless rhythm, my bed moving with the slow, yet rough, deep thrusts of my body inside of Sansa's.

I'm sure she's leaving marks from where her nails are gripping my skin and the thought makes my cock twitch. Finding that bump, deep in her body, I pound my length until my cockhead hits it just right and I press on her clit at the same time. Sansa finally cums around me, shouting my name and pulling my own orgasm from me.

It's take a long time for our releases to finish, our breathing to slow and bodies to relax. I'm not complaining, laying above and still inside of this beautiful woman, my beautiful woman.

When I can't hold my weight up any longer, I withdraw from her heat, causing Sansa to whimper and me to sigh. Quickly, I maneuver us to our previous position of, what do people call it? Cuddling.

"Wow. I can't even move." Sansa mumbles.

I smile broadly above her head. "I think I blacked out for a second."

Sansa's face matches mine when our eyes meet but she looks back down almost instantly. "I've never had an...orgasm, during sex before."

She's more exposed now than any other moment we've been together today and her honesty simultaneously breaks my heart and makes it soar.

I fucking hate that anyone did anything less than worship her but the fact she feels so comfortable with me means more than she could ever know. I don't take it lightly either, and vow then and there, to make sure it's always like this between us. Safe and pleasurable.

"I'm so fucking sorry little bird. You deserve better than your past, a hells of a lot better." I stroke her cheek, dragging my thumb along her bottom lip. "And I promise you this, you'll always cum when we're together."

Sansa's eyes darken again and she kisses me languidly. "Now, give a man a minute to rest and I'll keep good on my word."

She giggles and hugs me again. Her breathing evens out in no time and I find myself dozing with her.

I wake up first, hungry for something other than Sansa, for the moment at least. I don't want to disturb her and instead bask in the peace of this moment together. That comes to an abrupt halt when the exploration that my hand was on of the right side of Sansa's body touches some sort of ridge of raised skin.

My stomach stinks immediately. It's not that I had forgotten about the physical pain Sansa suffered that night, but the blonde piece of shit who inflicted the harm hasn't been at the forefront of my thoughts.

I also hadn't yet been able to explore her body as I wanted to but I was looking forward to doing so and this caught me off guard.

Absentmindedly, my fingertips trace back and forth over the scar, that I can't see from this angle, until it rouses my little bird.

Sansa slowly brings herself out of her slumber. She pauses for a millisecond as if wondering where she is before squeezing my waist and nuzzling my pec.

She looks up at the ruined side of my face and gives me a sleepy smile before freezing. Her head turns slightly, trying to see what my fingers are doing.

"You made me forget about that." She whispers, looking at my chest.

I lift Sansa's chin until she meets my gaze again. "What's wrong?"

She searches my eyes, looking almost frightened. "It's so awful and it will always be there as a reminder of what happened, of how I'm damaged." Her breath hitches on the last word.

The rage I feel to the entire Lannister family makes my vision blur before I can reign in my emotions. She doesn't need this from me right now. "You, my little bird, are the furthest thing from damaged." I stare straight into her eyes, relaying the truth behind my words.

"This," I say as I drag of my index finger along the scar just above her hip, "is proof that you are tough as all hells, and you are meant to be here. He hurt you, he tried to break you and you did not let that happen." My own voice waivers for a moment, another reminder of how I almost never met Sansa makes my heart stop.

"I'm sorry it's there and that any of that shit happened to you but you have grown and I'm sure you are still growing from that time in your life. It is a reminder of how far you've come and how hard you fought."

Sansa watches me intently the entire time I speak and now two lone tears track down her cheeks. I wipe them away with my free thumb and then she's moving, scaring me, maybe I said something wrong.

She sits up next to me and turns, showing me an unobstructed view of her side. Of the scar. It's the first time in my life I've ever been thankful for my own melted cheek. Looking at that all the time helps me keep my face as emotionless as possible and holds the choked sob in my throat.

How the piece of shit didn't hurt her worse or damage an organ is beyond me. The fact her skin is raised, pink, thick and jagged, even after all this time shows just how deep he stabbed her.

"I-I chose not to do any plastic surgery on it." Sansa says to me but keeps her eyes on her side. "Once they released me from hospital, I just wanted to forget. The after care and follow-ups to ensure it was healing, that was all I could handle." I rub my palms along her thighs, where my hands have been the entire time.

"You're perfect." I say, raising up on my right elbow to drag that hand up to her hip, my fingers grazing the top of her ass and my thumb running along the scar.

Sansa cups my own scared cheek and leans down to press a soft kiss to my lips, and finally smiles when she pulls back.

"Let's eat, yeah?" I ask her.

She simply nods, looking relieved and then we slip into our afternoon and evening.

After that, we don't leave my flat until Tuesday morning. Neither of us have anything pressing to attend to, work wise, until later in the week.

Sansa showers at mine and wears my clothes for the next couple of days. That in and of itself did not help with actually attempting to leave my bed. I never understood the allure of a woman wearing your clothing, but that was probably just because no one had ever worn mine.

Of all the ways I've seen Sansa dressed up, from sexy to cute to drop dead gorgeous, nothing beats her lithe frame swimming in one of my shirts.

Arya had been looking for her and other than a few rushed phone calls and some messages to the rest of her family and also to Marg, Sansa hasn't given attention to anyone but me. And I was reveling in that fact.

It wasn't as if her sister was alone. When I went to get the food we ordered from the deliveryman in the lobby one night and I came out the lift as Gendry was getting in. I'm sure they were happy Sansa was holed up with me, giving them space to do whatever they want.

Sansa didn't stay simply because our relationship had turned physical. Not that it wasn't a factor. I think I had more sex over this past long weekend than my whole life put together. Mind blowing, numbing, life-changing sex.

The intimacy grew between us every time as well. I think we both are more exposed now than the first time we slept together.

We learned everything there was to know about one another as well. I can now tell the difference between each of Sansa's smiles. I know when she wasn't being completely honest or if she was holding back her excitement over something simple like a TV show. I know what she loves to watch, what she doesn't and what she puts up with because I like it. Those small changes felt like huge ones.

I walk her home early Tuesday morning. The only reason she left is because Ygritte begged to have a a catch-up before their meeting later that afternoon. We linger and kiss and touch, at her threshold so long we should've spent the time behind my closed bedroom door instead.

"What time do you want to go to dinner?" Sansa asks me when we finally part from our fifth goodbye kiss.

"I can come get you at six from the publishing house?"

"Sounds good." She responds.

Sansa then looks down at her feet for a moment seemingly unsure of herself. This is something I have promised myself to work out of her. I want her to be almost obnoxiously cocky in life. Especially when it comes to me.

She could sneeze and have me panting at her feet. Before I can prod her to tell me what's on her mind, Sansa meets my eyes again and tells me on her own.

"It's going to be strange and difficult without you today. I like that little bubble we were living in." She looks sadder than she ever has in my presence.

My heart does something in my chest, something I'm not used to. It's like it's cracking but not in a breaking way. No, this is a good crack, almost as if my heart is trying to shatter some of the ice around it, break the grip and coldness my past has it locked in.

Sansa has already melted away so much of the frozen, darkness within me, it's no surprise to think she will continue to do so.

I keep her flush against my body with one arm around her waist as the other traces the frown around her eyes.

I heave out a large sigh. "I've never had to miss anyone before and I know I won't like missing you at fucking all." Sansa gives me a small smile.

"Good thing we're neighbors huh?" She jokes, making me laugh.

"Yes, thank fuck for that." I agree. But the hallway that separates us still seems too long and far.

I press my lips to hers, opening my mouth and stroking her tongue with my own one more time before slowly detangling our bodies and taking a step back from her. If I don't, I will never leave this spot.

"I'll see you tonight." I tell her as I walk backwards down the hall.

"Can't wait." She responds a second before closing her door.

When I get back to my own apartment I don't know what the Hells to do with myself. We had breakfast together, after we had each other, so I can't busy myself making a meal. We didn't really do much other than lie in bed, or on the couch or have a shower, meaning there's nothing for me to clean either. And I sure as fuck am not going to work.

If I thought Bronn was up my ass when I didn't come in the day after our first date, I was sorely mistaken. I'm actually surprised he didn't attempt to get a window washing job so he could scale the building trying to spy on us. I will of course get in touch with him, I want to, really. He had his own date, well several, with Margaery over the weekend and I want to hear about that too.

But like Sansa said, we've been in a bubble and I still feel as if I'm inside of it. I don't want it to pop or disappear just yet. Even though part of me knows life with Sansa will always be like living in our own world, separate from the rest of the population and I have grown used to it already.

And I'm not fucking complaining. I know I have been just surviving and not really living for far too long. I was happy though, I won't take away from the life I had made for myself or insult the small group of family and friends who have made my life better.

However, I never aspired for more. I thought it was my lot in life to give back, to help those that suffered, somewhat, like I did. Orphans, abused children and women. And those who suffer with mental illness.

Even if I don't think there was ever going to be a way to save my brother, if things had turned out differently. I have talked to shrinks over the years about him, obviously. One of them, the therapist I had been with the longest, fought tooth and nail to get any records on my brother and father and was successful in the end.

My dad had been a solider in the war when he was young and his psychiatric evaluation did not come back clear. They didn't really want him to serve but the war was horrendous and our side had lost so many that they had to take any able-bodied men, so he went into the trenches. It didn't say much about what that specific doctor thought plagued him but it did mention possible bipolar disorder.

If times were different and coverage had been better years ago, my father might have been able to get help.

The reports on my brother were few and far between but it was enough for my doctor to get an idea of what had gone on.

Gregor had not suffered from anything like my father. He was simply a psychopath.

Even though we lived near a decent public school and my father had the funds to send us to private, he chose not to. Instead, my brother and I went to the shit school across town.

The guidance counselor and vice principal were pretty decent and caught him doing suspicious shit more than once. They called my house, my father came and nothing was done. Unfortunately, the principal was as terrible as the curriculum.

Those few reports however, were detailed and paired with some of my memories, it was enough to paint a picture of who Gregor was.

I remembered the plague that ripped through our neighborhood when I was little, when almost everyone lost their cats or dogs. I had caught my mother and father talking about it once not long before he attacked me. Mum had found a dead guinea pig of all things in our back garden, it was ripped open and bloody, not as if an animal had gotten it but as if it was tortured on purpose.

When she told my father he instantly turned defensive and screamed at her, trying to downplay the whole thing. He then broke down and told my mother exactly what she needed to know, my father was aware that Gregor had done this on purpose.

I don't think my dad was a bad person like my brother but I think he was easily coerced, he already suffered mentally and had PTSD. My conniving brother used those weaknesses against him even though they're not weaknesses.

My father did love my mum though, it wasn't enough to save us but when she fell apart that night he started panicking over his admission and it spilled out of him. How he had found my brother doing that to the furry little thing and asked him where he even got it.

Dogs and cats run about outside and you can lure them to you but a small domestic pet that lives in a cage? My father even began to sob and hyperventilate when he recounted to my mother the truth and the horrors Gregor had told him.

How he had started breaking into houses and he loved the power. It made him feel good that he could sneak around someone else's property without them knowing. He worked his way up to taking the live animal, first by stealing small trinkets that people might not even notice are gone.

After that, he was bored and decided to steal the little boy next-door's pet. Greg told our dad that he also stood in the older sister's bedroom door and watched her sleep. Thankfully, my brother died before he could sexually assault anyone but that girl got off lucky. He grinned when he recounted to my dad how if he hadn't had the stupid fucking guinea pig squirming in his bag he would've taken her then.

I learned all this and heard the opinions of medical professionals many, many years ago when I was still young and have rehashed them over and over.

The defense department even opened a case for what happened to me in my house and then to my family after. It took a while but it was agreed that I was attacked on purpose and bedsheets had nothing to do with my burns. It was also subsequently finalized that the housefire that took my entire family was arson.

We all had hefty life insurance policies. Money I never knew about or wanted.

My brother was actually found on the front lawn and it was confirmed he died from a heart attack due to smoke inhalation. Whereas my father had a wound on the back of his head and was on the floor of his and mum's bedroom.

Mum and Elenor never woke-up at least and suffocated in their sleep.

The confirmation of what happened to me, mum and Elenor gave me more peace than I thought it would. To know others believed me, that I wasn't crazy and hadn't made up the incident between Greg and I was a relief. However, it didn't take away my pain and loss.

If only my mum and sister had survived, if I had been taken instead. Those thoughts and the despair plagued me for a long time. They creep into my mind now too, even if it's rare.

It's not until my back and hands begin to twinge that I realize I've been standing in my kitchen, knuckles clenched and leaning on my counter for half an hour, lost in my thoughts.

I need to go back to my shrink.

Raymond had me in intense therapy from the moment I was released to him. He would wait outside and make sure I stayed or if I did run out he was there to take me home. It took months and several doctors before we found Dr. Lyanna Mormont.

She was the kind of doctor you could call at home and she would talk you off of a ledge at any time. If it wasn't for her, we might never have learnt as much as we have about my family.

She's done every test I've asked for, sometimes twice and kept me informed on the different ages when certain mental illnesses can occur.

The reason as a young boy that I finally felt comfortable with her was because at the end of my first session she looked me dead in my eyes, after I had gone on and on for over an hour about the crippling fear I had that I would wake up one day and morph into my brother or father. She told without mincing her words that neither of them would have ever had an iota of concern about being a bad person. The fact that I was so anxious about it and how badly I wanted to be my own self, to live my life, just proved how different I was.

I saw her almost every day in the beginning and almost as frequent for years after that.

Raymond was also a psychiatrist for most of his career but by the time I went to live with him he was giving his time either pro bono or to youth shelters. He tried not to treat or diagnose me at home but understandably that wasn't always 100% possible. And I'm glad he did give in because it was his suggestion to start group therapy that not only introduced me to Bronn but I feel it also helped me immensely to start dealing with some of my issues on my own.

By the time I left the north I was only seeing Dr. Mormont once a month, sometimes less but I did have her find me a doctor in the city. The move, changes, being away from Ray, worrying about our business. All of the thinking and concern was going to take its toll.

I was right. I started seeing Dr. Lewin immediately, before Ray had even driven back to Brighton, he moved as well, after helping me move to London. Even though he was an older gentleman, Lewin still had the vibe and spunk of someone like Dr. Mormont which put me at ease.

I saw him quite frequently until Bronn and I made our first profit as that was what mostly kept me up at night but not knowing anyone but Bronn and Osha in the beginning and having so many more in a city setting people around me every day to stare, made it difficult for me to be on my own two feet again.

At this point, I haven't seen him for going on eighteen months and I know that's too long. After we gave up on a standing appointment I would just go to him ad hoc. Even if I don't feel as if I've needed to call him and speak or to be in his office for an hour, I still must maintain a better baseline and should've had an appointment more recently.

This is all true but the catalyst for my email to the man, as I'm still leaning on the kitchen counter reliving memories and parts of my life I haven't shared with Sansa yet, even though she easily admitted that she has a therapist, is said beautiful redhead herself.

I have never felt this way for someone, even though it's been all I've ever wanted. So many of my appointments, even as a child, were my hopes and dreams of finding someone that I could love and who would love me back. To build a life that I never saw or experienced. To give someone a beautiful life, one that my mother and sister didn't get it.

I know my feelings are real and true, I can feel myself falling completely and irrevocably in love with her but I want to make sure they're healthy feelings. I believe they are, and fuck, even if he says they're not I won't give her up. For the first time in my life I feel warm and alive and whole and happy. All because of her.

The slip of a fiery woman has flipped my life upside down.

Lewin emails me back almost immediately saying that he's missed me and is happy to hear from me. He tells me to come by on Thursday and to not worry about his receptionist, I am to make appointments with him and can also call him at any time.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I know that I can see him soon, catch up and let him know how my life has changed. Every time I go to therapy it's the same things over and over. What happened to me, how I was dealing with it, if I was feeling slightly more positive or negative at the time.

Yes, I grew and changed over the years, I could handle it better sometimes and other times it was worse. But I circled around same event in my life and I need to know how that my past will affect my future and how I can let that not happen. I cannot allow it to ruin my relationship.

I've been standing at my island for so long my legs and back are stiff when I finally let go of my demons inside, and decide to start my day with a good workout. Other muscles are hurting me too, ones I didn't think existed even as a trainer, but I guess that's what good sex does, because it's a better workout than any exercise you can do.

A couple hours later, after a long shower that still doesn't make all the kinks in my body disappear, I'm contemplating going into the sauna at the office when my phone finally goes off.

Sansa has sent me several excited messages or simply just emoji's letting me know her meeting with Gendry was actually a surprise for her to come in and see the final hardcopy of her second novel.

They were having a meeting with about release dates and then gave copies out to the staff to read the book so they can report back on its feel. Once Sansa has had her own review of it, the order will go to the publisher and they'll start printing copies for her summer release.

I congratulate her and let her know how excited I am. She replies immediately telling me she has to go back into another discussion and asks if we can change our time to meet to earlier and if I can come in to her office building and up to the second floor, she doesn't want me waiting on the street in case she runs late.

I shake my head at my little bird simply telling her of course and that I can't wait to see her.

If feels like days have passed by before I finally exit the elevator onto the second floor of the upscale, downtown building Gendry has built his empire out of.

As I approach the large waiting area and long reception desk, my eyes fall immediately on Sansa's auburn hair. It's cascading in waves down her back and she's wearing one of those flowing skirts again and those red bottom heels. I can feel myself slow my gait so I can soak in every inch of her and I can't even help myself, not caring if I get caught.

Which is exactly what I thought has happened when I finally tear my gaze away from her long legs and see the receptionist Sansa is chatting away to looking at me from head to toe. I realize quite quickly her gaze doesn't hold judgment as I expected, instead it's full of heat.

I know my height and the body I work so hard to maintain, earns me more looks than I've probably ever thought possible but it still shocks me when I notice a woman checking me out. Or a man. I never really want attention and I especially don't fucking want it right now.

Thankfully, Sansa has been looking down at something in her hands that she then moves to put inside of her bag and misses the ogling her coworker is giving me.

And then my beautiful little bird must hear or simply sense my presence and turns to me. Her eyes light up and her face breaks into one of her dazzling smiles. I close the distance between us before she can think about moving and she throws her arms around my neck for a quick hug when I reach her.

I keep one hand around her waist and stand slightly behind her, finally moving my eyes off of her to peek at the woman behind the desk. There's no longing or appreciation on her features now. Sansa has marked her territory and the woman is instead looking at me with a bit of surprise and a small smile on her face.

"Hi." Sansa says to me.

"Hi little bird." I reply.

She then turns back to the woman in front of us. "Everly, I'd like for you to meet my boyfriend Sandor."

Even though this Everly character has more than likely put that together herself, her eyebrows are raised ever so slightly. "So you're the reason for the pep in her step?" She asks me.

I look to Sansa who's trying to avoid my gaze, but the pink in her cheeks gives it away.

"I suppose that's me."

"Well, keep up the good work, we all like seeing this one happy. One of a kind she is." Everly says to me, while nodding towards Sansa.

"That she is." I respond.

Sansa is seemingly embarrassed a bit by our back-and-forth and speaks up again.

"Sorry to have kept you Ev. I know you were supposed to knock off fifteen minutes ago."

"Don't you dare apologize. I love catching up with you." The women smile at each other.

"We have a dinner to go to but I'll see you soon." Sansa tells her as she leaves the desk.

"Sounds good. "Have fun you two." The brunette woman calls out after us.

"So was that your book I saw you stuffing into your purse?" I inquire as we walk away.

Sansa slips her hand in mine and smiles up at me. "Yes it was."

I nudge her with my elbow. "Let me see."

Sansa smirks and shakes her head. "When we get home. Gendry would have a litter of kittens if he thought my unreleased novel was out in public."

I chuckle at her. "Fine, fine. I can't wait to see it. So proud of you little bird, and happy for you." I tell her as we reach the elevators.

One is reaching our floor but I can see it's going to continue going up after that so I lean forward to press the down button for us. When I look back at Sansa she's staring at me almost looking in awe.

"Thank you Sandor, you don't know how much that means to me."

The two of us are lost in this moment, standing side-by-side, holding hands, just watching each other. We are so deep in our little trance that we don't even look up when the elevator dings, the door opens and someone exits. Not until we hear them speak at least.

"Oh." We hear them say, sounding a bit startled.

We finally break our gaze to see who's in front of us, or below us I should say, and it's none other than Tyrion fucking Lannister.