A Holiday by Decree
~~Day 11~~
Gently, he lifted his hand up from Sansa's hip to give a tender stroke to the sweetly flushed apple of her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes were locked on his, as he asked quietly and attentively, "How was that?"
She surprised him slightly, as she moved into his touch to sit up. He withdrew his hand unsure of how to interpret her change in position. Though her movement had brought her closer to him, and her eyes were still dark with what looked like want, her expression was unreadable.
Curling her legs under her, Sansa sat a bit lower than him, as Tyrion had sat up on his heels to previously reach over to her cheek. She looked up into his eyes, as she said, "There's one more thing."
"What is it?" he asked softly but simply, suddenly nervous. He pictured any number of comments could follow. The possibilities were endless. He still feared he was actually just dreaming the whole thing up –
Her voice was a bit halting, as she asked, "Would… you please hold me?"
He felt himself relax. "Of course - I would like that too," he said instantly, and kneeling on the cushions, they moved together to close the distance between them.
Still frightened of coming on too strong, Tyrion folded his arms around Sansa delicately as if she were made of glass. However, as her arms laced around him, her hold and her chin coming to rest on his shoulder felt warm and weighty, giving him the courage to hold her closer in return.
Tyrion knew his arms were shorter than average, but his heart sang as he found that, slight as she was, Sansa seemed to fit perfectly in his embrace.
Caught unawares, Tyrion's eyes suddenly pricked with emotion. This feeling of love and acceptance were all he had ever craved. Assured that Sansa all but owned him body and soul no matter what else came to pass at this point, a secret part of him still believed that she would likely wake up one day to want another man. He already knew he would never stop her though, as long as the person she chose was good and true to her. It was already more than enough for him that she had allowed him to feel even this much with her.
He was just trying to tell himself not to cry, when a sniffle at his left ear caught his attention.
"Oh, Sansa," he intoned, pulling back to see her wet lashes wet and face blotched pink. Tenderly, he touched a hand to her chin. "You're crying -" he breathed, a wet droplet splashing his own cheek.
Sansa managed a watery smile and a small head shake, as she gazed back at him. "So are you." Her voice wavered, but her words were clear: "I- I'm sorry, I'm not crying because I am sad. I'm crying because I am happy. No one has ever touched me so kindly, Tyrion. Thank you so, so much."