you can count on me to misbehave (смешанная)

“So how does the story end?”
The three of them are strewn across Margaery’s bed, Sansa in the crook of her elbow and Dany nestled innocuously against the opposite curve of her breast. It’s a golden summer evening and all of them are at least a little drunk on wine coolers and vodka-and-Sprites -- vestiges of Margaery’s grad party, which still flows on beneath her half-opened bedroom window. Margaery stirs a little in the heavy heat and her fingertips skim Sansa’s arm; Sansa stiffens slightly at the contact, but otherwise does her best to give no hint that she has felt it at all.
Because three is better than two, right?