[ 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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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.
no subject
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. )