A Holiday by Decree
~~ Day 9 ~~
Tyrion and Sansa eventually left the pool for lunch. They soaked up shade and read over zesty tomatoes, chicken, and garbanzos. A chilled juice even sourer than limes was served after the meal. They laughed as their mouths puckered from the unfamiliar intensity.
The height of the day's heat passed, but they still sweated in the shade. The pool beckoned again, and Tyrion wondered about asking Sansa if she wanted to return to the water.
A gentle touch drew Tyrion's attention back to the table. He looked down in surprise: the tips of pale fingertips were pressed to his left arm.
Tyrion's heart pounded in his chest on beat with his rushing thoughts at the sight; against the soft fuzz of his arm hair and tanned skin, Sansa's delicate hand looked positively like porcelain he was desperate not to break.
"Were you thinking of the pool as well?" she asked.
"Yes, would you be ready to swim again?" he composed himself. However, he could not help thinking of the miraculous thing that was possibly happening.
Was this it?
Were they 'breaking the ice'?
:
Back in the pool, Sansa and Tyrion mainly lounged and talked. More of the refreshing sour citrus juice was brought to them on a tray set at the shallow end of the pool. On the tray, they were also given matching porcelain aperitif cups, which contained clear "imported" spirits with invigoratingly bitter hints of more citrus and herbs.
Enjoying the citrusy zing of the drinks, Sansa felt herself pleasantly relaxing. The pool water she knelt down in was so cool, while the stone she and Tyrion leaned up against by the drink tray was wonderfully baked from the sun. The ever present rhythm of the ocean tide left her soothed as well.
Helped by the strength of the spirits, Sansa also felt herself growing bolder. The memory of Tyrion's reaction to her touch of his arm at the lunch table helped with that as well.
Sansa had been uncertain and just hoping to shyly test the waters between them when she had touched his arm. Then, she had seen the way his eyes had widened a little bit, and it had taken him (a man known for his ability to talk at that) a beat to find his words after she did it -
She had removed her hand almost as quickly as she had placed it, still skittish and worried as old conditioning had taught her.
However, the look in Tyrion's eyes - that look, of desirous wonder at her gesture - filled her mind.
How she wanted to see that look again!
So listening as he talked, a story from a faraway city to which Sansa had never been, she rested her chin on one hand at the edge of the pool.
What if I - just for a moment? she wondered and gently moved her free hand against Tyrion's forearm once again.
A moment later, her body buzzed, as she was rewarded with another look from him.