No Satisfaction
She could sense a rising angst in his disposition, a rage in his eyes she has seen before in it's depth floods his gaze. His intimidating pose looms closer as he turns, facing her directly with his discontent.
"No, it gives me joy to kill people." He replies, baring his teeth. she surprises herself with her own diluted anger, hackles rising.
"You lie." She states, her tone steady in the face of an increasingly furious Hound. He charges towards her then, his hand going to his sword. She gasps, feeling the stone pillar at her back , the cold stone snapping her out of her confidence, all at once she realises her words. The dog manages to control his anger, his bared nostrils giving away the effort, his eyes soften for a mere moment. Still Sansa holds onto her anger at his ungallant reaction to her thankfulness. It becomes increasingly clear that The Hound operates in action and displays an unorthodox lack of importance to words.
"Killing is the sweetest thing there is." He continues, eyes drifting carefully over her face.
" Then you know very little of life." She responds bravely, a genuine surprise coats his gaze as he tilts his head to the slide as he regards her. He was so very difficult to read and understand. The sudden movement of his hand reaching for her makes her flinch and turn away in fear, her figure reeks of it.
" Look at me." He bellows, his hand grasping her jaw, twisting it with a hesitance that surprises her. Looking into his eyes, she doesn't feel danger radiating from them, they flick between each of hers.
"You think my hideous face hinders me? You believe my anger leaves me empty? I have travelled the whole of Westeros, girl. Your beloved King pays me coin enough for wine and whores. I'm satisfied with my lot, girl." His spite seems to burn across her face and she feels a frightening need to flee the barrage of his hate. His hand engulfs her throat and jaw, she felt the power in them, the possibilites of harm and death seep through his very fingertips. Sansa briefly considers that she may have insulted him.
"I'm sorry, My Lord, I should not speak out of turn on a matter I do not understand." At this moment, she expects him to release her. She rests her hands on his at her throat and wrist. Suddenly overwhelmed, burning tears fall from her eyes, leaving his twisted and damaged face a mere blur, Sansa could feel panic in her throat.
"Keep your chirping for the King, Little Bird. Your honesty has no consequences. I give you my word." He responds gruffly, keeping his voice low. Sansa and The Hound watched each-other for a moment as she regained her composure, taking deep breaths before speaking.
"Satisfied is not the same thing. You may bark and growl to whom you will, some day, satisfied may not be enough. You are more than that. I know it." She speaks quietly.
"Silly girl, with her fantasies and Knights." He barked, glancing her full length, she could hear the leather of his gloves squeal as he clenched his fist.
"You should be grateful if you ever were satisfied, Little Bird; you have a Lord's blood, you live in comfort and luxury in the cage you resent. Alone in the world you have seen nothing of." She looks up at him, his face is high as his eyes look down at her. Sansa can feel a wretched sadness creep into her throat and burn her eyes. 'A dog doesn't lie' they said.
"Why are you always so hateful?" She replies, anger and sadness creeping into her voice. He lets go of her jaw then, slowly as if not to cause her pain. His armour screeches in her ear as he moves.
"You will be grateful of the hateful things I do some day. When I am all that stands between you and your beloved King." The fury drips in his every word, eyes blazed with a fire that disfigured his face long ago.
"You no little of Love and happiness. Ser."
"I am no Sir." He growls. Taking a dangerous step toward her.
"You no little of Love and happiness, Little Bird." His response was surprising, Sansa drew her eyes away, pausing for a moment before walking back toward her chamber. Feeling his dark eyes at her back.