Forgotten

• 35 •

Sansa woke to a sensation that she had never been able to experience before.

His arms were around her.

She did not want to open her eyes to the world that was before her. But for once, it was because of a different reason. Some days, Sansa had been tired. Her soul had felt worn as she laid and thought of the stretch of time that was in front of her. But on this day, the thought of breaking this warmth, and waking up to reality... For once, Sansa wanted to keep her eyes closed- not because of the horrors she may face on the outside- but because of the eventual peace that was sure to break.

She felt him move, his arms that were linked and pressing to the small of her back pulling her in tighter. Sansa pressed her face to his chest, her hands idly going to feeling the skin.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes.

She looked at the color that haunted her dreams. She traced the markings once more, feeling the thin outlines and how it contrasted with his skin. She loved his skin. She loved how the color reminded her of warmth and the forest they had met in for all those years. She always was captivated by him and the scent he carried. Never would she encounter a scent such as this. Everything about him was unique and surreal.

He was a creature of the moon, and though it was the painful reality that made the moment bittersweet in her mind, Sansa couldn't help but think how fitting those words were to describe him.

She looked up. He was looking at her, but not directly. His eyes were to her hair as his nose pressed to it, then roaming to her own features as he took them in. Finally, almost lazily, his gaze drifted to where she looked. He smiled, and she smiled back.

"Did you sleep?"

"I don't. It's not needed."

Sansa frowned, "we wasted time then."

He shook his head, "I've never seen you sleep before. It's an experience I'll remember."

He leaned forward and kissed the fresh mark that was upon her shoulder. Sansa started at the realization of its existence. She looked at him and saw the same.

She traced its outline with her finger.

"It's an addition...to your collection," she motioned to the other markings that had been painted onto him. A fierceness overcame his gaze as silver reflected in the morning light.

Sansa closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. They laid there together in the silence that evoked them.

"The time is coming," he whispered.

Sansa could not help the tears that came to her eyes.

She felt his hand lift her face, forcing her to meet him, "get dressed my sol." He kissed her, a quick meeting of the lips that made Sansa reel at the coming moment.

Wordlessly they stood, but halfway, before she could even pull her shirt over her head, he grabbed her. He pulled her back to the bed, taking the breath away from her in such a quick motion.

She was laying down, his body over hers as his lips crashed onto her skin. On her claim mark, her neck, going up to her jaw before finally kissing her deeply.

"No," the sound was ripped out of him like a wounded animal.

Sansa sobbed at the single word as he shook his head and held her face between his hands.

"No," he growled the word out, an agonizing groan leaving him.

She pressed him closer to her. She did not protest. She did not argue against it because she was screaming the word also in her head.