Eighty Nine

 Not sure if it was a good idea for them to be alone together right now, Sansa cautiously began, "James —" But he wasn't listening. He cupped her elbow, gently pulling her to her feet as he rose to his. His eyes were locked on her like a predator watching its prey that it suspected was about to flee…which wasn't far from the truth.

 A part of her was thrilled about the effect this had had on him—it showed that he cared, that he considered her to be as important to him as she needed to feel that she was, that it wasn't just all a "mine" thing and there was more to his actions than a sense of ownership. But a part of her was nervous as hell. Not that she thought he would harm her. No, never that. Still, the guy could be unnerving at the best of the times.

 Now, it was bad.