( Sansa nods, a smile sliding across her face quickly at the prospect of Miles making her breakfast in the morning. That seems like a very romantic thing to do even if that's not something done in Westeros, normally. )
Yes, Miles, I want you to stay. Will you teach me how to cook? I'm not very good.
I can. I'm not exactly a chef, but I can make a good breakfast, at least. Joe - my foster dad - likes simple foods.
[ He already can tell he's not going to be awake much longer, eyes heavy, words a tiny bit sluggish. He doesn't want Sansa to be offended, but her discovery of orgasms was a workout, for him, as much as he wishes he could give her so much more already. ]
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Yes, Miles, I want you to stay. Will you teach me how to cook? I'm not very good.
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[ He already can tell he's not going to be awake much longer, eyes heavy, words a tiny bit sluggish. He doesn't want Sansa to be offended, but her discovery of orgasms was a workout, for him, as much as he wishes he could give her so much more already. ]