Don't Blame Her
From Create Your Own Story
"Oh Sansa, my sweetling", Robb whispered and caressed her cheeks. "Of course I'm not angry. You did what you thought was best, it was not your fault."
She seemed so afraid of his judgement and looked so frail with tears still on her face, Robb wanted to hold her forever, tell her everything would be fine, protect her from all the troubles in this world. He gently kissed her forehead, then her nose, and then, suddenly, her beautiful, soft, wet, salty lips.
Sansa froze, and it took a few seconds before Robb noticed what he was doing.
Gods, I need to get a grip. She's just so beautiful and sad. Am I really thinking of her in that way now?
Robb had to admit he entertained the thought. He had always loved his little sister so much - but like this? That wasn't right!
Before he could come to any conclusion, he felt that Sansa, carefully, shyly, cautiously was returning his kiss. This felt so pure, so right. After a few seconds, or maybe minutes, or maybe it was several days, he broke the kiss and looked deep into his sister's bright, blue eyes. She stared back, waiting for Robb to make a move.
What does Robb do?
(TurinTurambar).
