Sorry for the weird formatting before! Hopefully it's fixed now. So this chapter is a little shorter than the others, but I've been really busy lately and I wanted to get something out to you guys. I'll try to update again this week! Please leave a comment!

When Sansa awoke, she regretted the night before immediately. Her head spun as she tried to sit and nausea threatened to make her vomit. She pressed her hands to her eyes and shook her head. The movement was a bad idea and she quickly stopped. The past night was a jumble of images in her head, and she slowly tried to piece them together. She remembered drinking in the hall, slowly at first, and then all at once. She remembered the Hound coming and being glad to see him, until he made her leave.

Sansa rolled over and felt the soft cloth of her night gown. Had she changed herself? Sansa's eyes snapped open. She remembered. She remembered the Hound bringing her to her room. He had helped her take off her dress and he had seen her practically naked. And then… She groaned and covered her mouth. She had kissed him. She couldn't remember past that, so that must have been when she had fallen asleep. Unless…

She sat up and swung her feet out of bed. Had she fallen asleep, or had she simply blacked everything else out? Had she and the Hound…

"Brienne!" she called.

There were footsteps outside the door, but when it opened it was not Brienne. Podrick the squire stood in the doorway.

"I'm sorry my Lady, Lady Brienne is not back yet."

"Oh, that's alright. Can you call for the Hound? Tell him I want to speak to him immediately."

"Yes, of course. Where shall I tell him to meet you?"

"Here, in my chambers." She didn't need anyone else eavesdropping on what might have happened last night.

Podrick pause, looking confused, before nodding. "Yes, right away."

Podrick left and she quickly changed into her fur gown. Soon she heard the heavy approaching gate of the Hound. His footsteps stopped outside her door. She waited for him to knock or come in, but for a moment he just stood there. Finally, the door swung open. Sandor stood in the door way.

"Come in." Sansa ordered.

The Hound remained standing in the doorway for a moment, as though considering walking away, but in the end he walked in and closed the door. Sansa fidgeted nervously with her hands. If she had slept with the Hound last night… well, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. But if the Hound looked at her differently now…

"Sandor, about last night-"

"What about it?" he growled.

"I remember mostly everything. I remember getting drunk and you coming for me. I remember you helping me out of my dress. And I remember kissing you."

Sandor stared at Sansa. What did she want him to say? Did she want him to deny it happening? Because he wouldn't do that. But he also didn't want her feeling guilty for anything.

"Sansa, you weren't yourself. I didn't think anything of it."

"Right, neither did I," she nodded. "But, I can't remember anything after the kiss. So, I was wondering, if we, you know…" she trailed off, her eyes searching his face for answers. He realized a moment later what she was asking him. He wanted to laugh and be furious at the same time.

"You want to know if I fucked you while you were drunk."

Sansa blushed, but nodded. Sandor closed his eyes. She really thought he was a monster. She really believed he would rape her. He didn't even have enough fury to yell at her. Instead he spoke quietly.

"No Sansa. I didn't take advantage of you."

Confusion crossed her face. "No, Sandor, that wasn't what I was asking. If we slept together I wouldn't think-"

"Think what? You don't think it would be wrong for a sober man to force himself onto a drunk unconscious woman?"

She blinked. "I suppose I didn't think about that. But no, Sandor, I don't think you would ever do that. It was foolish of me to ask."

He sighed. "It's fine. Everyone else thinks of me as a beast. It's fine if you do as well." This wasn't the truth. She was the one person he didn't want to see him as a monster.

"I don't think you're a beast Sandor. I think you're a hard man, and you use cruel words to hide your feelings, but inside I believe you are a good person."

He watched her. "Right. Well for future reference, I don't fuck women who don't ask me."

He turned to leave.

"And if I asked you?"

He froze in his tracks. Truly she couldn't have said what he thought she said. He turned slowly. She looked mildly surprised herself, but she kept eye contact. He shook his head. She was only toying with him.

"You would never ask for that little bird."

"And if I did?" she demanded.

He shook his head again. "Stop it. I know you would never. I'm not something you would want. Go find one your hansom knights."

A look of sudden furry crossed her face. "You stop it! I'm not that same little girl with flowers in her head and weak knights on her mind. What use are they to me?"

"What use am I to you?"

She stopped, and something seemed to be warring behind her eyes. Finally her face softened. "Can't you just be enough."

At her words, everything in him seemed to fall out all at once. His hatred, his resentment, his blind fury, and was replaced by something else. Hope. He barely trusted himself to speak.

"Am… am I enough?"

Sansa bit her lip. "Am I?"

Sandor couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. Could she really not know? How could she not see right through him? "Sansa. I don't understand. What are you saying?"

She looked away. "I don't know. But I want you to stop thinking of yourself as a monster, because you aren't to me. You're one of the few people who has protected me without wanting anything in return."

He laughed again. "Believe me, I wanted something in return, I just knew it was something I would never get."

Her eyes widened slightly, and he realized his mistake. He had finally laid his thought out there, now she knew. She knew he had always desired her. He walked to the door. He didn't want to hear her thoughts on what he had admitted.

"If you need anything else, just call for me." He walked out and closed the door behind him.

Sansa stood staring at the door. Sandor had told her something she had always suspected, but she had never allowed herself to really think about. He wanted her. He had always wanted her. She walked to her mirror and sat down. She looked at her reflection as a realization occurred to her. He wanted her. And she wanted him back.