Sansa has danced all night and now she thinks her feet cannot possibly carry her another step. She's just finished another round of dancing and drinks with Margaery when she finds Jake again and she is warm and tipsy, bubbly with champagne and good feelings.
The color is high on her cheeks when she slips off her heels and puts her arms around his neck, pushing herself up against his chest.
"Ja-ake," she sing-songs, heels delicately held in one hand while she looks up at him. "We should go home, Jake."
Sansa grins at him and nods quickly. It is going to take a little bit of effort, of course, but she thinks she can walk home. It's going to be easier if he lets her lean on him, though.
"Or I can carry you. You did dance a lot." Jake said, his hand combing through her hair. And drink a lot. And it was obvious the alcohol made her more relaxed about physical things. She was trying her best to meld with him and they were in public.
Sansa laughs and leans up to kiss him, missing his mouth by almost a mile. "Oops? I think we should go home. I think if you can carry me, you should definitely carry me."
She blinks at him, utterly charmed. "It would be romantic."
"I have them," Sansa promises. She tucks her face in against his neck and shoulder and her lips ghost along his skin, lips leaving light little kisses.
Sansa feels heat wash over her cheeks and she buries her face in against his neck, a little shy that he would use that tone with her right out in public. That's the tone he only uses in private and honestly, it's special. It's not every time.
"Have I gotten in trouble for something?" Sansa is genuinely curious about that now, considering she's been having fun all night and Jake hasn't seemed cross with her. Still, that tone isn't always a bad thing and she decides merely to snuggle down against his chest a little more for the walk home.
"Oh no, not in trouble. I would tell you if you were." Jake said, not worried about his shoulder. She wasn't that heavy and he had carried more even hours after being shot.
"I'm the one who gets in trouble the most, sweetheart."
"I don't mind being in trouble for you every once in a while," Sansa says. She tries to make it sound coy and teasing but she doesn't know if she's entirely successful on that front.
"Hmm? What do you want to try, sweetling?" Sansa is always eager to try things with Jake and she is certain that anything he does is going to be wonderful for her.
Sansa colors a deep red and nods, tipping her head down. Normally she's confident and queenly around Jake, blossoming in his fine treatment of her, but now she wants to be demure.
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01.01.2017 - early morning.
The color is high on her cheeks when she slips off her heels and puts her arms around his neck, pushing herself up against his chest.
"Ja-ake," she sing-songs, heels delicately held in one hand while she looks up at him. "We should go home, Jake."
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He straightened up when Sansa approached and draped against him, his hands automatically came up to her waist. She was plastered.
"Hey, babe. Yeah, we can go home. Can you walk?"
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"You'll let me lean on you, sweetling?"
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She blinks at him, utterly charmed. "It would be romantic."
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"Got your shoes, babe? We're going home."
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"And you have me. Take me home, Jake?"
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"And I think my Sansa needs a little bit of control."
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"I do?"
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"Yeah, babe. We'll discuss it when we get home." He made his way out and towards home, not really noticing the others around them.
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"Have I gotten in trouble for something?" Sansa is genuinely curious about that now, considering she's been having fun all night and Jake hasn't seemed cross with her. Still, that tone isn't always a bad thing and she decides merely to snuggle down against his chest a little more for the walk home.
"I should be patient, yes?"
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"Patience is good. You've been lacking that, though." He continues.
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"Don't want to be in trouble for anything."
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"I'm the one who gets in trouble the most, sweetheart."
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"Hmm?"
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"So, want to try something when we get home?"
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Jake smiled at her as he played with her hair, his fingers rubbing circles on her neck.
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"Oh, I remember the voice. It's...a very good thing we're going home. We need to go home."
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"Yes, we're going home, and you, my lady, are going to be very good and listen to me once we get home."
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"Yes, my lord," she whispers. "Absolutely."