( Sansa is spending this evening at Miles' apartment, the one he shares with Robbie. Unlike the last time she'd come over, she'd announced herself and hadn't walked in on him in a delicate position so she's simply enjoying his space for the time being. She's particularly affectionate, even if still fully-clothed, and nestled up alongside him in bed while she works on one of her seemingly-endless sewing projects. )
If you'd like, I can put this away in a moment and focus my attentions elsewhere.
( He hasn't ever turned her down for that so Sansa is smiling brilliantly, liking her chances for it. )
[ Baby's had a long day. With Gamora leaving Cadelle, the responsibilities of B-Sides had gone back solely to him, and while he could handle it, it was an amount of pressure he hadn't felt in a little while. He'd gotten used to the easier rhythm he'd allowed his life to get to, and the easy feeling of working with Gamora.
There's also a bit of restlessness to it, maybe - maybe a little reckless, too, an itch under his skin, something screaming for him to get some space. He hasn't gone on a drive by himself for a while, just some time for him to set his head straight, to breathe.
It's probably why Sansa's offer suddenly rubs him the wrong way. It's not that he doesn't adore her, because he does. He does, but he's also spent every evening, if not entire days with her since their relationship became more serious, and he feels ready to burst at the seams. It's not her fault, and he knows that, but he can't help himself, as he moves away from her on the bed, shifting so that he's sitting on the side of the bed, feet on the floor, his back to her. ]
It's okay, Sansa. You don't have to do that, all the time.
No. ( The word is careful, measured. ) I don’t have to do anything. I want to do things, that’s the difference.
( She puts her sewing away and reaches down, petting his hair and scratching his scalp a bit. ) Did you not want to? I just want to be here with you, I don't care if it involves being naked or not.
( Curling up and kissing him, just laying against him in bed - these things are just as good as the orgasms she's only begun to discover over the last month. )
Edited (hahah this is why i cant tag at dark o'clock) 2018-04-20 23:12 (UTC)
( Sansa's first reaction is simply to be stunned. She'd had no indication that Miles was tired of her over these last few weeks and she reviews their interactions carefully in her head, trying to see when he'd been cross with her or tired of her and she'd missed it. She's normally very good at reading expressions but perhaps she'd been blinded by her feelings. That's dangerous to do; she ought to know better by now not to trust her heart, only her mind.
She busies herself with tucking away her sewing and lets her mask slide in place, trying not to betray any hurt or disappointment. If he would like distance from her, she will simply provide it without comment. )
Very well, Baby. I'm certain I have plenty of sewing that has been neglected these past few weeks that I ought to devote myself to instead.
[ It's unfair. He knows it's unfair. He's not really thinking clearly, though, his brain muddled, like the sudden nice weather is making everything sluggish. He's usually so controlled, holding himself in such a good way, and yet now... he's ruining everything.
And for what? Because he thinks she deserves better than to devote herself to him? God, Baby. He notices the change in the name she uses, too, and winces, pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes sockets.
Still, even though he knows he should apologize, all he does is plow right on. ]
All I'm asking for is for some air. I'm not saying I don't want to ever see you again, alright, you don't have to act like I'm breaking up with you. I just want us both to take some time for ourselves. Don't you want that? Are you fucking tired of me?
I actually am not tired of you. I am tired of being the brunt of a cross mood when I don’t believe I’ve done anything wrong.
( Sansa gathers up her things and stands to leave. If he does not wish her to be there, she won’t be. )
I only wish that if I were such a demand upon your person that you’d simply have told me before getting angry with me solely because I wanted to spend my evening with you.
[ Baby runs a hand over his face, bewildered that she'd say that. Like she has nothing better to do than to hang out with him, every night, all the time. It barely computes to him, especially right now.
There's a part of him that is angry. That wants to push her away so that she can find something better than what he can offer. But she's so calm, collected, and it cuts through his anger, leaving him with barely more than naked exhaustion. ]
It's not - you're just - you don't get it. It's like you don't know how to selfish, and I don't know how to deal with all the attention. I'm not used to it, and it's making me feel like I'm... suffocating, sometimes.
[ His tone is not angry anymore, but he knows that his words are still harmful. He doesn't keep himself from saying them, though. ]
( What he says cuts deep like a knife and Sansa is more hurt by it than angered further. She nods once, in agreement, and her hands are clutching her sewing bag tightly so he can’t see them tremble. )
Very well. I won’t have you suffer under my attention any longer. I thought you enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed yours. I was mistaken. Forgive my misstep.
[ Her response makes his groan out loud, hands closing into fists as he presses them to his eyes again. He thought, maybe, she'd understand where he's coming from, or at least try.
But she doesn't, and she's upset. ]
You're putting words in my mouth, now. I never said I don't enjoy your company, okay? I just need some space, from time to time. That's all I'm saying, don't make it a bigger deal than it is!
[ He regrets the outburst as soon as it's out. She doesn't deserve this, and she's way too sensitive for him being such a dick. But it's too late. ]
( Sansa honestly doesn’t have a way to respond because she doesn’t know these rules or how to play this game. She had gotten very good at Joffrey’s games and at Ramsay’s but this is something else entirely. All she does know is to leave and so she does, leaving before she can display any weakness. )
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If you'd like, I can put this away in a moment and focus my attentions elsewhere.
( He hasn't ever turned her down for that so Sansa is smiling brilliantly, liking her chances for it. )
no subject
There's also a bit of restlessness to it, maybe - maybe a little reckless, too, an itch under his skin, something screaming for him to get some space. He hasn't gone on a drive by himself for a while, just some time for him to set his head straight, to breathe.
It's probably why Sansa's offer suddenly rubs him the wrong way. It's not that he doesn't adore her, because he does. He does, but he's also spent every evening, if not entire days with her since their relationship became more serious, and he feels ready to burst at the seams. It's not her fault, and he knows that, but he can't help himself, as he moves away from her on the bed, shifting so that he's sitting on the side of the bed, feet on the floor, his back to her. ]
It's okay, Sansa. You don't have to do that, all the time.
no subject
No. ( The word is careful, measured. ) I don’t have to do anything. I want to do things, that’s the difference.
( She puts her sewing away and reaches down, petting his hair and scratching his scalp a bit. ) Did you not want to? I just want to be here with you, I don't care if it involves being naked or not.
( Curling up and kissing him, just laying against him in bed - these things are just as good as the orgasms she's only begun to discover over the last month. )
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Maybe that's the problem, actually.
[ As soon as he's said it, he regrets it, but he suddenly feels like he's barreling down a highway with no brakes on. ]
We haven't spent a minute away from each other in weeks, and I -
[ He turns his head to look at her over his shoulder. ]
I need some air.
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She busies herself with tucking away her sewing and lets her mask slide in place, trying not to betray any hurt or disappointment. If he would like distance from her, she will simply provide it without comment. )
Very well, Baby. I'm certain I have plenty of sewing that has been neglected these past few weeks that I ought to devote myself to instead.
no subject
And for what? Because he thinks she deserves better than to devote herself to him? God, Baby. He notices the change in the name she uses, too, and winces, pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes sockets.
Still, even though he knows he should apologize, all he does is plow right on. ]
All I'm asking for is for some air. I'm not saying I don't want to ever see you again, alright, you don't have to act like I'm breaking up with you. I just want us both to take some time for ourselves. Don't you want that? Are you fucking tired of me?
[ He would be, if he was her. ]
no subject
I actually am not tired of you. I am tired of being the brunt of a cross mood when I don’t believe I’ve done anything wrong.
( Sansa gathers up her things and stands to leave. If he does not wish her to be there, she won’t be. )
I only wish that if I were such a demand upon your person that you’d simply have told me before getting angry with me solely because I wanted to spend my evening with you.
no subject
There's a part of him that is angry. That wants to push her away so that she can find something better than what he can offer. But she's so calm, collected, and it cuts through his anger, leaving him with barely more than naked exhaustion. ]
It's not - you're just - you don't get it. It's like you don't know how to selfish, and I don't know how to deal with all the attention. I'm not used to it, and it's making me feel like I'm... suffocating, sometimes.
[ His tone is not angry anymore, but he knows that his words are still harmful. He doesn't keep himself from saying them, though. ]
no subject
( What he says cuts deep like a knife and Sansa is more hurt by it than angered further. She nods once, in agreement, and her hands are clutching her sewing bag tightly so he can’t see them tremble. )
Very well. I won’t have you suffer under my attention any longer. I thought you enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed yours. I was mistaken. Forgive my misstep.
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But she doesn't, and she's upset. ]
You're putting words in my mouth, now. I never said I don't enjoy your company, okay? I just need some space, from time to time. That's all I'm saying, don't make it a bigger deal than it is!
[ He regrets the outburst as soon as it's out. She doesn't deserve this, and she's way too sensitive for him being such a dick. But it's too late. ]
no subject
( Sansa honestly doesn’t have a way to respond because she doesn’t know these rules or how to play this game. She had gotten very good at Joffrey’s games and at Ramsay’s but this is something else entirely. All she does know is to leave and so she does, leaving before she can display any weakness. )