[ They say that surrogates are not people. They are bodily vessels, receptacles that hold an entire lifetime of second chances. They are ghosts and they are echoes — thin shadows cast upon the wall by their Originals, nothing more. But if that were true, how then was this possible? How would the copy of the girl who had broken Mr. Baelish's heart so many years ago suddenly find it in herself to love him now — so freely and so effortlessly, the way any normal girl would.
Sansa feels something strange happen to her then, as the tumult of emotions she feels inside had suddenly come to a glorious, shimmering head. Without warning, hot tears sting her eyes and stain her face, her gaze wet and singular and wholly adoring. There is nothing, nothing that compares to first love — a heavy truth that Mr. Baelish has held in his heart all of these long years — and it is first love that fills Sansa's gaze and spills down her cheeks, the sentiment far too large for her unexperienced heart to hold. Even though he holds her ardently, his arms are gentle and — for the first since knowing him — seem strong instead of earnestly meek. Still, a breathlessness takes hold of her, brought about by their kissing and her crying. ] Y-yes, oh yes, [ she sobs happily. ] Nothing would make me happier, Mr. Baelish.
[ Kissing him briefly, she presses his cheek to hers and twines about him, her shoulders shaking as she sobs again, the sound heartbreakingly joyous in his ear. ] Are we in love, you and I? Is that what I'm feeling right now? Can you promise it will never end?
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Sansa feels something strange happen to her then, as the tumult of emotions she feels inside had suddenly come to a glorious, shimmering head. Without warning, hot tears sting her eyes and stain her face, her gaze wet and singular and wholly adoring. There is nothing, nothing that compares to first love — a heavy truth that Mr. Baelish has held in his heart all of these long years — and it is first love that fills Sansa's gaze and spills down her cheeks, the sentiment far too large for her unexperienced heart to hold. Even though he holds her ardently, his arms are gentle and — for the first since knowing him — seem strong instead of earnestly meek. Still, a breathlessness takes hold of her, brought about by their kissing and her crying. ] Y-yes, oh yes, [ she sobs happily. ] Nothing would make me happier, Mr. Baelish.
[ Kissing him briefly, she presses his cheek to hers and twines about him, her shoulders shaking as she sobs again, the sound heartbreakingly joyous in his ear. ] Are we in love, you and I? Is that what I'm feeling right now? Can you promise it will never end?