Another thing that a surrogate cannot afford and has no right to keep for themselves. Whatever time was given to them was a gift granted from their Originals — the boon of good health and lucky circumstance on their part, a longer wait and delayed satisfaction on the part of the surrogate. In the months and weeks leading up to Sansa's eventual flight to the attic there had been many appointments scheduled, several back-to-back-to-back. And over the course of them, Sansa was to have been carefully disassembled in a last-ditch effort to salvage her Original and send the rest of her to scrap. But in the end, time had not been on CS's side as the final letter brought to her by Mr. Baelish had revealed.
In the end, time had been on Sansa's side. And now, with Mr. Baelish's help, she would have as much of it as any normal girl. She would have years upon years upon years. She would never complete. She would live and die as an old woman and, if Sansa had her way, what separated her now from that final moment was simply a lifetime spent by her former counselor's side. (A living, breathing girl in exchange for a beloved ghost.)
He touches her hair and Sansa leans into the touch, the gesture sweet and kittenish and colored shy. ]
Yes. [ Sansa's heart trills again in her chest, the songbird of her soul flapping joyously from its perch only to hover in her throat. ] Nothing would make me happier— than to be kissed by you, Mr. Baelish.
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Another thing that a surrogate cannot afford and has no right to keep for themselves. Whatever time was given to them was a gift granted from their Originals — the boon of good health and lucky circumstance on their part, a longer wait and delayed satisfaction on the part of the surrogate. In the months and weeks leading up to Sansa's eventual flight to the attic there had been many appointments scheduled, several back-to-back-to-back. And over the course of them, Sansa was to have been carefully disassembled in a last-ditch effort to salvage her Original and send the rest of her to scrap. But in the end, time had not been on CS's side as the final letter brought to her by Mr. Baelish had revealed.
In the end, time had been on Sansa's side. And now, with Mr. Baelish's help, she would have as much of it as any normal girl. She would have years upon years upon years. She would never complete. She would live and die as an old woman and, if Sansa had her way, what separated her now from that final moment was simply a lifetime spent by her former counselor's side. (A living, breathing girl in exchange for a beloved ghost.)
He touches her hair and Sansa leans into the touch, the gesture sweet and kittenish and colored shy. ]
Yes. [ Sansa's heart trills again in her chest, the songbird of her soul flapping joyously from its perch only to hover in her throat. ] Nothing would make me happier— than to be kissed by you, Mr. Baelish.