OPEN | prompt three | PAIN

[wrens]

prompt three | P A I N dressing-room style. start your own thread. tag others. wash, rinse, repeat. open to all.

 

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[mockeries]

[ Sansa weeps, and Petyr pulls her into his embrace. (He is the sea that threatens to drown her, the inexorable force pulling her under, meaning to stifle, to envelop her completely.) ]

Hush, my sweet, [ he murmurs, the words cushioned in the dull brown of her hair (another lie). ] The lie may still be found, yet. That a lie has been told successfully once does not ensure that it will hold the same weight the next time. [ Not comfort, perhaps, but (ironically enough) the truth. ]