Sandor watched with horror as Sansa fell apart. He really thought that she might vomit. As the tears fell and the hysteria started, she covered her head and whole body with the Afghans. She was a weepy mess, and it was all Sandor's fault. He awkwardly patted her, and then as she kept crying, he wrapped her up in a big, bear hug. She finally stopped sobbing; it was just big gulping gasps for air.

"I'm sorry I hurt your feelings" Sandor whispered to the pile of afghans which had become Sansa.

The pile still snuggled closer to him, gulping still, "I'm so sorry I was so selfish." She started to cry again.

Sandor tenderly found Sansa under all the blankets and pulled her out, he gently wiped the tears away with his massive hands. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. "Sansa," Sandor began, "Let's compromise, let's start by being friends."

Sansa looked up into his grey eyes, with her big blue (bloodshot) eyes and smiled at him.

The lightning blazed and the thunder rolled and they both closed their eyes and hugged each other.

They awoke from their afternoon nap, legs entwined. Sansa's fiery hair was in Sandor's mouth; her arms were wrapped around his waist. One of Sandor's arms was wrapped securely between Sansa's pert breasts and his other was on her thigh. Sansa awoke first, warm and happy, nuzzling into Sandor's chest and neck. Sandor became unconsciously aroused and began to fondle a breast and rub up Sansa's thigh.

Then they froze, removed their touching body parts and sat up, looking sheepish. Sandor smoothed the wild hair of a horrified and guilty looking Sansa. He rewrapped her tight in a blanket and hugged her gently. "Maybe I should just give up and take you all for myself during this hurricane." He said as much to himself as he said to her.

"So you do like me?" Sansa whispered, hopefully.

Sandor looked at her, incredulous. "You think this all is because I am not physically attracted to you?"

Sansa nodded, in her naïveté, not sure what else would cause Sandor to not want her to kiss him.

Sandor ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't believe someone as beautiful as Sansa could so insecure. "Before I came here, before I got sober, I was not a nice person. I was violent, hateful, and angry. Now I am just occasionally angry. I try so hard to do the right thing. Every morning I wake up, I chose to not be an alcoholic. I have to make an active choice each day Sansa, to not have a drink. Some days are easier than others. I have found in the past 2 years my choice not to drink is easier if I do not have moral ambiguity. For the most part that isn't a problem; things are usually easily black and white for me. I chose not to drink alcohol; I chose to do what is morally right. You are a shade of grey. I am not sure what is right and what is wrong. How can I say no to you, which is what seems like the morally right thing to do, but I feel and you seem to as well, that we are drawn to each other. Times like this I really could use a drink. It makes things much more difficult for me. If you were not engaged to someone else, it would be easier. But that isn't the case." Sandor explained sadly.

Sansa looked at Sandor, understanding sinking in. "But my engagement is false."

"Aye, it might be, but you still live with another man, you wear his ring. That is not what I want for me. Sansa, I have finally come to the place in my life, where I want more than that for me. If you want changes in your life Sansa, you're going to have to make hard choices like I have. I can be your friend and support you."

"But we won't be more than friends until I make the hard choices I need to make." Sansa said.

"Aye" Sandor nodded, one of the hardest choices he had to make that week.

"But you think I am pretty?" Sansa asked shyly

"Oh Sansa, if you only knew." Sandor said wistfully. "If you only knew."