Chapter Text
Sansa sat cross-legged on the couch in the living room. She had an open textbook in her lap and a highlighter uselessly sitting in her hand. She was staring at the same paragraph as if it were a riddle designed to humiliate her.
Ten minutes. Fifteen. Maybe twenty. She had no clue what she'd just read. Something about economic systems, probably. If anyone asked, she'd just blink and mutter, "Economics?" hoping she wouldn't get a follow-up question.
From her roommate's bedroom, she heard Jeyne's voice: "Do you think this is too much?"
Sansa rolled her eyes before even turning. Jeyne stepped into the doorway, adjusting the hem of a dark green dress. The dress was definitely on the shorter side and cut low, but it didn't seem too revealing.
"Well?" Jeyne asked, motioning dramatically at her outfit.
Sansa blinked. "It looks... nice."
Jeyne groaned. "You said the same about the last one."
"Yes, because it also looked nice," she explained, but Jeyne did not look pleased. Sansa sighed. "Wear this one. You look good. Really."
Jeyne looked at her for a second, like she was deciding whether to argue, but then muttered a quiet thanks and let it go. She slipped on golden earrings while she walked over to the couch, where Sansa had resumed her futile attempts at studying.
"You're still not coming?" Jeyne asked, but it didn't sound like a question, more like a statement.
"I told you," Sansa said, tapping the highlighter on her textbook. "I want to get ahead before classes start again."
Jeyne rolled her eyes. "It's the last weekend of summer break. No one's getting ahead of anything."
"I am," Sansa said, eyes glued to her book.
"Sansa," her roommate said, her voice going soft in the way that meant she was about to say something Sansa wouldn't like. "You've been hiding." Sansa ignored her, but Jeyne continued. "You haven't left the apartment once since Winterfell. Not a single time."
Sansa's lips twitched. She always made a trip home to see her family during vacation, and Jeyne usually tags along. This time, they had stayed at her parents' place for four weeks, but they had been back in King's Landing for two weeks already.
"That's not true," Sansa mumbled. "I've been doing the grocery shopping lately."
"Don't be dense. You know what I mean." Jeyne flopped onto the couch beside her. "You can't just sit here waiting for him to text you. He's not going to."
Sansa felt her cheeks sting. "I'm not waiting for him to text me."
"You've been checking your phone every five minutes since he ghosted you."
Sansa lifted her head, indignant. "Not true."
Jeyne raised an eyebrow. "So you don't miss him?"
Slowly, Sansa shook her head.
"That's a lie, and you know it." Jeyne shot up. "Look, sulking at home is unhealthy. Put on a hot dress and come to the party with me. Distract yourself. Maybe even bring someone home." She winked. "We've been living here a while, and I've never witnessed anyone else in your bed. Now that Joffrey is out of the picture, it's the perfect timing." Sansa glanced toward her bedroom door. Jeyne's and her bedroom were side by side. The thought of her friend witnessing… well, anything, made her stomach flip. "Come on, Sansa. You've been living like a hermit." Jeyne flopped back onto the couch with a groan. "Friday night, in pajama pants, pretending to study. What are you, a monk?"
Sansa let out a small, reluctant laugh. "Don't be so dramatic. I'm just preparing for school a little."
"Mm-hmm. Sure. You're avoiding life. You're still hung up on Joffrey. And now you're hiding in here like some tragic novel heroine. Pathetic, really." Sansa's cheeks burned a little. "Seriously," Jeyne went on, pushing herself up off the couch, "if you won't come to the party, at least go outside. Take a walk. Touch grass. Remember what fresh air feels like. Do something. Anything."
"I go outside," Sansa muttered weakly.
"To buy cereal. That does not count," Jeyne shot back immediately. Sansa huffed, crossing her arms. "Fine," Jeyne said, grabbing her shoes and slipping them on. "Stay here. Be boring. But if you change your mind, text me. I'll come get you. I'm generous like that."
"I won't text you," Sansa explained.
Her friend rolled her eyes before heading for the door.
"Seriously," Jeyne added, hand on the handle. "Walk. Outside. Try it."
The door fell shut behind her.
Sansa stared at her textbook for a long moment. Then she sighed, louder this time, and dropped her head back against the couch. She just lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling like it might give her answers.
It didn't.
With a sigh, she dragged herself upright and glanced down at her textbook once again. The same paragraph stared back at her, just as incomprehensible as before. She read the first line. Then the second. Nothing stuck.
Her eyes flicked, almost involuntarily, to her phone resting in front of her on the coffee table. She hesitated for a second. Then she grabbed it. No new messages. Of course not.
Her thumb hovered for a moment before she opened Joffrey's contact anyway, like something might have magically appeared in the last three seconds. The last message was still hers. Can we please talk? Sent nearly a week ago now. Delivered. Not answered.
Sansa swallowed, her chest tightening in that familiar, irritating way. It hadn't even been a fight. That was the worst part. One day, everything had been normal. He'd kissed her goodbye, told her to have fun in Winterfell, to text him when she got there. She had, and he'd replied. The first couple of days had been... fine. A little distant, maybe, but she hadn't thought much of it. He got like that sometimes.
And then. Nothing. No calls. No texts. No anything.
At first, she'd been worried. Something might have happened. Maybe he was busy. Maybe his phone had broken. Maybe- God, she'd come up with so many maybes. By day five, the maybes had started to feel a little pathetic. By day seven, they'd turned into something sharper. And then Jeyne had shown her his social media posts. There he was. Not in her messages. Not anywhere near her. But very much alive. Stories from parties. Loud music, flashing lights, and a lot of people around him. Girls pressed up against him, laughing, touching his arm, leaning into him as they belonged there. Like he belonged there. Like she didn't exist at all. Her stomach twisted. That had been the moment it clicked. No dramatic breakup. No explanation. No decency, apparently. Just gone. Ghosted.
Sansa let out a short, humorless laugh, dropping her phone back onto the couch as though it had personally offended her. "Pathetic," she muttered under her breath, though she wasn't entirely sure whether she meant him or herself.
She picked up her highlighter again, forcing her eyes back to the page. Economic systems are structured around- Nope. Her gaze drifted to her phone again. She didn't give in, though. Five minutes later, she was staring at the same sentence again.
With a frustrated groan, she grabbed her phone. Still nothing. No messages. No missed calls. And, because apparently she enjoyed making herself miserable, she checked his profile again. There was a new story. Another party. Sansa locked her phone so quickly that it was almost aggressive and tossed it onto the couch beside her.
"Okay," she said out loud, the word sharp in the quiet apartment. This was ridiculous. She couldn't sit here doing this all night. Staring at her phone, pretending to study, spiraling over someone who clearly wasn't thinking about her at all. Jeyne's voice echoed in her head, annoyingly smug. Take a walk. Touch grass. Sansa made a face. Then she sighed. "Fine."
Pushing herself off the couch, she grabbed her phone and slipped on her shoes and a long jacket to cover up her pajamas before heading for the door. If nothing else, at least outside, there would be something else to look at besides her phone.
The air outside was colder than Sansa expected. Not cold, exactly. Just cold enough to make her glad she had thrown on a jacket. She shoved her hands into her pockets and started walking. She didn't really have a specific direction on her mind. She just... walked. That was the point, right? Go outside. Walk. Touch grass. Jeyne's voice echoed in her head again, annoyingly persistent. "I am walking", she muttered under her breath like Jeyne could hear her.
Still, it didn't take long for her thoughts to circle back to him. Joffrey Baratheon. Sansa made a face at herself. They were dating for seven months. It wasn't that long, objectively. She knew that. People had relationships that lasted years, decades, even. But that didn't stop it from feeling like something substantial. Like something that had been building toward... something permanent.
Sansa exhaled slowly. She had really thought that was it. That she had found the person she would marry. In the beginning, it had seemed so easy with him. He had been her first real boyfriend. Not just someone she had gone on a few awkward dates with or made out with at a party. He was special, and he made her feel special in a way she didn't entirely want to admit. Sansa pressed her lips together, staring down at the pavement as she walked. She had let herself believe that she was special.
Joffrey Baratheon didn't just date girls like her. And yet, he had. He was the son of the chairman of a huge international oil company. Everyone knew who he was, especially at school. His family also owns the Lannister Foundation, which pretty much finances the whole school. He was really popular at school. He was the kind of person people talk about. The kind of person people noticed. And for a while, they had noticed her too because she had been with him. She had felt special. Chosen, even, which was embarrassing to admit. But now... Now everyone would know that they weren't together anymore.
Going back to school was going to be unbearable. Everyone who had seen his posts online would know that they broke up. They would talk. Of course they would. And no one would frame it like he disappeared without a word. No. It would be simplified into he dumped her. Or worse. He got bored.
The thought made her stomach twist uncomfortably. She turned a corner without thinking, her mind too occupied to pay attention to where she was going until the low hum of music pulled her out of it. Sansa looked up. A bar.
Her eyes flicked toward the warm glow coming from inside. People were gathered in small groups, laughing, talking, looking entirely at ease. This was... not her scene. At all. Which was, annoyingly, exactly what Jeyne would say was the point. Sansa exhaled slowly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She stared at the door for a moment, frowning slightly. This wasn't the kind of place she usually went. Actually, it wasn't the kind of place she would ever go to on her own. With Jeyne, maybe. Or with a group. But not like this.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. The warmth hit her immediately, along with the layered noise of conversation and music. It wrapped around her, unfamiliar but not entirely unpleasant, and for a moment she just stood there, taking it in.
And then- Oh. Her gaze dropped. Sweatpants. Old T-shirt. She was still wearing her pajamas.
She looked back up at the room, suddenly hyper-aware of everyone else. Of how put-together they looked and of how not put-together she looked.
"I should leave," she muttered, already turning-
"Is it really that bad?"
Sansa blinked and turned back. The girl who was standing a few feet away from her looked... Well. Like she belonged here. Effortlessly so. Her brown hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, her posture relaxed but self-assured, and her brown eyes, which were sharp and unmistakably amused, were fixed on Sansa.
"I-" Sansa started and then stopped. "I just got here."
The girl's smile widened slightly. "I saw."
"I meant- I was just leaving," Sansa corrected, gesturing vaguely at the door. "I didn't realize-" She looked down at her own outfit.
"Oh," the girl said lightly, following Sansa's gaze before looking back up. "It's charming," she said.
"I-" Sansa faltered. "I might be underdressed."
The girl glanced at her outfit once again, then back at her, entirely unbothered. "I think it works," she stated. "I'm Margaery," she added, as if it were a natural next step.
"Sansa," she replied automatically.
"What brings you here, Sansa?" Margaery asked, tilting her head slightly. Sansa felt, very suddenly, as if she were being studied by her. Not unkindly, but thoroughly. "You don't seem like you planned this."
Sansa blinked rapidly and shuffled her feet. She hesitated even though she clearly knew the reason. I got ghosted by my boyfriend... ex-boyfriend, and haven't left the house in weeks. I've been staring at my phone like everything would magically fix itself. Like an idiot. And my best friend suggested that maybe I should go outside, do something, anything, to distract myself, and somehow I stumbled into a bar. Alone. Wearing pajamas. Like I've completely lost my mind. And school is starting again. And everyone is gonna know that I got dumped and will make fun of me.
She did not say that.
"I'm just visiting," she managed, scratching her cheek. "Family."
Margaery's brows lifted slightly. "Oh?"
"For the weekend," Sansa added quickly. "I- I'm not used to living in a house with so many people anymore, so I, uh, I went outside for a break, and I ended up here." She wiped her hands on her pants, hoping she didn't sound like a lost child.
There was a brief pause.
But then Margaery offered her a gentle, soft smile. "Just this weekend?" she clarified. Sansa nodded, fighting the urge to dwell on why saying that had been her immediate instinct. "Well," Margaery said with a light laugh, "in that case, it would be a shame for you to spend it leaving two minutes after you arrived."
Sansa chuckled softly, digging her hands into her pockets and shifting her weight from one foot to another. "That certainly has a tragic ring to it."
"Tragic is the right word," Margaery agreed. Her voice was warm. "Come on. Let me get you a drink before you make your dramatic exit."
Sansa hesitated for half a second. Glancing at the door before looking back at Margaery's smiling face. Then she nodded. "Okay."
They walked towards the bar, the clatter of glasses and murmur of voices surrounding them. "So, if you are here to visit your family, where are you from?" Margaery asked. They sat down on two of the wooden stools lined up along the counter, while Margaery signed to the bartender to get them both drinks.
Sansa let out a nervous chuckle and glanced around for a second to see if there was anyone around them who noticed that she was lying. But the people around them seemed to be in their own worlds. There were groups of people laughing and drinking. Some people were dancing and singing. And there was also a couple that seemed to be fighting. Sansa wondered about what. The guy looked more upset than his girlfriend. However, no one was paying attention to Margaery and her.
"I'm from the North," she finally answered, clearing her throat. "From Winterfell." Technically, she wasn't lying. Sansa was born there.
"Oh, wow." Margaery nodded with bright eyes. "I've never been up there. What's it like?"
"Cold," Sansa said, and they chuckled. "But... nice," she added. "It's quieter than here. Slower, I guess. You can't really disappear there in a crowd of people. But yes, it's very cold. I mean, not all of the time, but well, most of the time."
"Noted," Margaery said. "If I ever go there, I will bring a jacket." Sansa laughed. "So," Margaery continued, "do you like disappearing in a crowd?"
"I, uh," Sansa started. "Sometimes, I think. But sometimes I do a terrible job at it," Sansa admitted, gesturing vaguely to herself. "You noticed me immediately."
Margaery hummed softly. "I notice a lot of people," she said, her brown eyes lingering on Sansa. "But not everyone makes me want to walk over."
Sansa felt her mouth go dry and her cheeks warm. She quickly looked away. Thankfully, at that moment, the bartender brought them their drink. Sansa immediately took a sip. It tasted horrible, and she made a face. She had never liked the taste of alcohol. That's why she rarely drank.
Only as teenagers did Jeyne and she go through a phase where they tried it a lot. They had still been living in Winterfell back then, and Jeyne would be at Sansa's place most of the time. Jeyne would bring alcohol she had stolen from her parents' cabinet, and at night they would sneak out of Sansa's windows to get drunk. That was probably Sansa's only truly rebellious phase. Jeyne got grounded often. Her parents usually found out about the stolen liquor. But she was also really good at sneaking out of her own window so they could continue where they had left off.
"Is your family big?" Margaery asked.
"What?"
"You've said, you're here because you're not used to being in such a full house anymore. So, do you have a lot of siblings?"
"Oh, yeah, uh," Sansa scratched her neck. "I, uh, I do. I have a sister and four brothers."
"Oh wow. That is a lot."
"Yes, but they don't all live at home anymore," Sansa explained. "My two oldest brothers have already moved out. Me too. So it's just my younger sister and my two younger brothers now. But they can still be a lot."
"That sounds lively," Margaery said. "I imagine it's never very quiet."
Sansa huffed a small laugh and shook her head. "It isn't."
Sansa was tracing the rim of her glass with her finger when she looked back at the couple that had been fighting before. They seemed to have made up by now. They were kissing each other as if they weren't in public. She started wondering if Joffrey had already been kissing other girls. If he had already replaced her. According to his online posts, he had been to a lot of parties, so it probably wasn't difficult for him to find one. She huffed slightly to herself. What was she thinking? Even if he wasn't going to parties, he wouldn't have an issue finding girls. Because of his status, many girls wanted to date him.
She took another sip, immediately regretting it. Margaery noticed. "Not a fan?"
"It's awful," Sansa admitted.
Margaery laughed softly. "Then don't drink it." There was a brief pause, but then Margaery leaned slightly closer. Her voice was low enough that Sansa had to focus to hear her. "So why did you really come here?"
"Uh, I-" Sansa hesitated. "Like I said. I just wanted a little break from my family."
Margaery hmm'd. Sansa wiped her hands on her jacket. Had Margaery been able to tell that she was lying? The expression on Margaery's face had tightened. She didn't seem convinced, but also didn't push any further. And Sansa didn't elaborate. "I assume you don't go to places like that often?"
Sansa let out a quiet breath. "I don't."
"I thought so," Margaery said, certain.
Sansa looked at Margaery. "Is it that obvious?"
"Only if you look," Margaery said with a light chuckle. "And I tend to look." She winked at Sansa.
Sansa opened her mouth and closed it again without speaking. Her whole body had gone warm. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was something else entirely. Because was- was Margaery flirting with her? She started tapping her finger against the side of her glass and let out a small, nervous laugh. She had absolutely no idea what to say to that.
Her phone buzzed. Thank god.
"I- sorry," she mumbled, pulling it out.
[Jeyne; 10:46 PM]
The party is lame.
Mya and I will drive back to our place to hang out there if it's fine for you.
[Sansa; 10:46 PM]
Yes, it's fine. I already finished studying.
Sansa didn't usually lie this much in a single day. But she wasn't ready to admit to Jeyne that she'd been right.
[Jeyne; 10:47 PM]
Amazing!! See you in a bit!
[Jeyne; 10:48 PM]
Also, I don't want to make you think about him again, but I also think you should know.
Mya said that Joffrey has a new girlfriend.
Sansa felt her body freeze in place. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't surprised. Not really. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. She brought a shaky hand to her forehead as she could feel a headache forming. Was she- was she sweating?
Sansa got up from her stool without a word and walked towards the bathroom at the end of a hallway.
The toilet stalls lining the wall seemed to be thankfully empty. She walked to the sink and turned on the tap, splashing cold water on her face. The porcelain was streaked with pink soap. The water didn't help. It didn't feel like anything at all. She turned the water off again.
Joffrey really just replaced her like that. Without talking to her. When had they met? Had he already been dating her when Sansa and Jeyne were still in Winterfell? How long did it take him to forget about her? Sansa groaned. People in school will now definitely know that he had dumped her if he has a new girlfriend already. She pulled out her phone and opened his contact again, her thumb hovering over the call button-
The bathroom door opened. Sansa turned around.
"I am sorry," Margaery said, holding up both hands. "I don't want you to think I am following you around. You just- you looked like something was wrong. I wanted to make sure you were alright."
Sansa slipped her phone back into her pocket. "No, I'm- I'm sorry." She pushed a hand through her hair. "I shouldn't have just left like that. That was rude."
"Don't worry." Margaery closed the distance between them and gently rested a hand on Sansa's arm. "Did something happen?"
"No," Sansa said and shook her head. "I just needed to get out of the noise for a minute."
Margaery looked at her. Really looked at her and stepped closer. Sansa was suddenly, acutely aware of Margaery's hand on her arm. Of how warm it was. She should have been thinking about Joffrey. She knew that. Some part of her knew she hadn't even begun to really process it yet, and that at some point tonight she was going to have to actually deal with it.
But it was difficult to hold onto right now. Because Margaery was watching her with that same attention she'd had at the bar, and this close, Sansa noticed things she hadn't before. The heart shape of her face. The two small moles on her cheek. The way she could feel her breath on her face. The way she wasn't moving away. And neither was Sansa.
Margaery's brown eyes dropped down at Sansa's lips and then looked back up. "Can I?" she whispered.
She- she wanted to kiss Sansa. Sansa had never kissed a girl before. At least if she takes out the time Jeyne and her practiced when they were younger. She had never even thought about kissing a girl before. But something about the way Margaery looked at her made Sansa nod. And then Margaery leaned in. Their lips met.
Gently Margaery took Sansa's bottom lip between hers. Margaery's lips were soft. She had never kissed such soft lips before. She had kissed boys before. She'd kissed Joffrey probably hundreds of times. Still, she hadn't known a kiss could feel like that.
Sansa's mouth was still open when Margaery moved away again. Just enough to look at her. "Was that okay?" she asked. Her eyes seemed to study Sansa's face.
Sansa nodded again and this time it was her who leaned back into a kiss. She put her hands on Margaery's hips, and that seemed to be all the confirmation Margaery needed because immediately after, Margaery pulled Sansa closer. Their bodies flush together. One hand on Sansa's lower back. The other caressed her jaw. She expected the kiss to be just as gentle as the one before, but the second kiss was nothing like the first. It was rougher. Hungrier. Sansa gasped against her mouth when she felt Margaery's tongue brush hers, and then Margaery did it again. Sansa felt heat rush up her spine. She heard herself make a sound she hadn't meant to and felt her face go hot, which was probably- she didn't know, she had never done this, and her body was reacting in ways that were getting ahead of her brain, and she didn't quite know what to think about that.
She couldn't think.
Margaery smiled against her lips and kissed her harder. She walked Sansa back until the edge of the sink pressed into the backs of her thighs, and the warmth of her close like that, the smell of her perfume- Sansa couldn't hold a thought. Margaery kissed down Sansa's jaw to her throat, open-mouthed and slow, and Sansa's eyes closed, while she gripped the fabric of Margaery's top in her fists.
Margaery's teeth grazed her skin and a sound left Sansa that had absolutely no permission to leave and the heat that had been quietly building low in her stomach clenched sharply in response and she thought- she didn't finish the thought because Margaery did it again, sucking lightly at the skin of her throat, and Sansa's hand shot to the back of her hair and gripped on hard. Margaery pressed closer. The full warmth of her body against Sansa's and Sansa's breathing had gone completely uneven, and she couldn't fix it. Margaery kissed back up to her mouth, slower, her tongue against Sansa's again, and the warmth low in Sansa's stomach kept pulling tighter, and she had a distant thought that this was genuinely a lot to process, but she could not process any of it right now.
Margaery's hand drifted from Sansa's jaw, down her neck. Down, slow, to her collarbone, tracing further, and Sansa tracked every inch of it and felt her stomach drop in a way that was not unpleasant, and her breathing stuttered even further. Margaery stopped with her hand just above her breast and pulled away to look at her.
"Can I?" she asked with her hand still above Sansa's breast. Margaery's brown eyes looked darker than before.
Sansa stared at her for a moment. Her heart was pounding very loudly, and the warmth low in her stomach was something she was trying to ignore, and she was aware she was probably red from her face all the way down, and she thought: this is a girl. This is a girl, and she is asking to-
"Yes," she said. It came out strange.
Margaery's palm curved over her breast, warm and unhesitating, and Sansa's exhale left her in a short, unsteady rush, and her grip tightened in Margaery's hair without meaning to. Margaery held still for a moment, watching her face, and then her hand moved- squeezing, gently. Sansa moaned and immediately felt her ears go red. She genuinely could not believe what her own body was doing right now. She was in a bar bathroom. With a girl. And she was- she was very, very-
Margaery pressed her lips to her throat and kept her hand moving, squeezing and releasing, and Sansa was holding onto her hair and her face was burning, and she was making quiet sounds she had absolutely no control over, and the warmth had become something urgent and insistent that she was not going to think about. She was not. She was not thinking about it.
Margaery kissed back up to her mouth. A long, deep kiss, her hand still cupping her breast, and Sansa kissed her back with everything she had and stopped pretending she was holding anything together. Margaery made a low, pleased sound against her mouth in response, and then, without breaking the kiss, her hand began to drift- leaving her breast, trailing down her ribcage, her waist- and Sansa tracked it and felt her stomach drop again, and her hips shift slightly forward without permission.
Margaery's hand settled on her hip. She squeezed once, lightly. Then her palm moved to the top of Sansa's thigh, warm through her pajama pants, and she just- left it there. Not moving. Just there.
Sansa broke the kiss to breathe. She looked at Margaery. Margaery looked back at her, dark-eyed and steady, and Sansa was breathing unevenly, and her face was catastrophically red, and the warmth low in her stomach had pulled itself into something tight and pressing that she could not ignore, no matter how much she wanted to, and she understood in a dim, overwhelmed way exactly what Margaery was waiting for.
"Still okay?" Margaery asked. Quiet.
Sansa opened her mouth. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. It's a girl, some part of her brain said. You are very aware of that. You have been aware of nothing else for the last several minutes.
"Yes," she managed, barely above a whisper.
Margaery kissed her again, softer this time, and her hand began to move down Sansa's thigh slowly, inward, unhurried, giving her every second to change her mind- and Sansa's eyes closed and her hips shifted again and she gripped the back of Margaery's hair and the warmth had become something so specific and undeniable she could not pretend to herself it was anything else and she thought, somewhat hysterically: I have never- I didn't know- I didn't know it could-
There was only Margaery's mouth, and her hands, and the faint trace of whatever perfume she was wearing, and the cool edge of the sink pressing into the back of Sansa's thigh, and the fact that she could not make herself care about any of that because Margaery was kissing her again, deep and unhurried, and Sansa was kissing her back.
Her phone buzzed.
She startled, badly enough that Margaery pulled back a little. Sansa pressed her eyes shut for a second before reaching into her pocket.
[Jeyne; 10:58 PM]
We're home. Where are you??
"I-" Sansa started. She looked up at Margaery, who was watching her with an expression that was calm and a little amused and somehow still made Sansa's chest do something inconvenient. "I have to go."
Margaery nodded. "Okay."
"I'm sorry," Sansa said, already moving toward the door, already feeling the embarrassment of her actions. "I- thank you. For the drink. And for-" She gestured vaguely, which did not clarify anything. "I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize," Margaery said, softly enough that it didn't sound like a reprimand.
Sansa pushed open the bathroom door and walked quickly through the bar, out into the cold. The air hit her like a door she hadn't known was there. She stopped on the pavement, breathing it in. Her lips felt warm. The rest of her did too, in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.
She looked down at her phone.
[Sansa; 11:00 AM]
Sorry, went for a walk. Be back in a sec.
Jeyne would have questions. Sansa would figure out what to say to her by the time she got home.
She started walking.