GOOD TO HER
Tyrion feels people stare. He knows they whisper and laugh. Let them. They whisper and laugh too, just the two of them. He likes hearing her laugh. She had been an unhappy girl when he met her and it touched him. He'd always had a soft spot for broken things, and many men had tried to break Sansa Stark after her father had been framed and executed. She had only wanted to be loved…
Love. That is not really his style. He cared for her surely, and she was as beautiful a girl as he had ever seen. But he couldn't ignore the stares and whispers and laughs. People think she is too good for him, and he knows they are probably right. They wonder why she is with him and sometimes he wonders too and is snarky with her, testing her to see if she will finally leave him. He hates himself for it, for hurting her feelings, even as he enjoys the power of his wit to make others feel as small as he is.
He makes up for his size and his cutting remarks with generosity: jewels, clothes, the finest dinners and wines. He is good to her. They are photographed whenever they are out, which is frequently, and he likes her to look good on his arm. It makes him look good; but he still cannot resist the cruel comments. When people disingenuously remark how tall she is, he leers and tells then she is not so tall on her knees or on her back; and he sees her eyes glaze over with distant pain even as she remains ever-courteous and refined.
He really should let her go, he supposes: he is not like to love her truly as she deserves. But he likes having her and pleasing her: when he does he does it very well, and she flushes and smiles at him. After all: a Lannister always pays his debts.