Night was close and the temperature was dropping quickly. Sansa rubbed her gloved hands together, watching as Stranger munched on his hay and oats. She'd never really paid attention to the farm dealings when she was younger but at least she knew how to muck the stall and feed the horse. Still, she paused, mentally checking everything she'd done that evening just to be sure she hadn't missed anything.

Finally satisfied, she turned and came face to face with Sandor. Her lips parted, surprised that he'd snuck in so quietly. He was looking past her, frowning as he took in her works. Stepping around, he peered into Stranger's pen, patting the horse's dark mane before taking in the rest. Sansa was edging towards the door when his voice stopped her. "You did all this?"

"Yes." She answered, bracing herself for his disapproval. He remained silent, inspecting the tools she'd laid out on the workbench. "I didn't know where they all went, I just tried to make it look tidy and clean."

He nodded, inspecting the fresh hay next as she fidgeted with her scarf, wanting desperately to escape. Finally he stopped, turning to gaze at her. "I didn't think you knew anything about farm work."

"Not much." she admitted with a shrug, "but I remember watching Father do it with Jon and Robb so I tried to imitate what I saw them do."

"You remember well."

"Thank you." She said softly, trying to ignore the warmth that blossomed in her heart at his words. "I'll get out of your way."

"Sansa, wait." His voice sounded strained and she turned back to him, just catching sight of his hand falling back to his side. She looked at him, her brows knitting together as he looked around the barn, clearly thinking about what he wanted to say. Then she saw his eyes, reddened and irritated. Has he been crying? She stepped forward and reached out to touch his cheek. "Sandor, your eyes..."

His hand shot up, catching hers before she could lay a finger on his scars and shoved it down, a painful expression clouding his eyes.

"Sansa." The way he breathed her name, his voice so full of anguish, made her heart tighten with fear. She watched him with bated breath, waiting for him to break her heart and be done with it.

"Sansa, I need to know-" he stopped, wetting his lips before continuing. "I need to know why you're here."

"I wanted to come home for Christmas, to be the ones who truly love me." She took a deep breath, the words tumbling out. "I wasn't looking for you, I really wasn't. It was shocking to see you here, with Arya. And I couldn't take it."

"Is that why you were going to leave?" His voice shook slightly and she quickly nodded. He squeezed her fingers tightly and she realized with a shock that he'd never released her hand but kept hold of it. "Why-" His voice faltered and he swallowed. "Why did you change your mind? Was it because you couldn't take seeing him happy?"

"No." She murmured, twisting her fingers around until she held his entwined with hers. "Arya told me what a fool I'd been and I realized that she was right." She met his eyes, desperately wanting him to understand. "I've been a fool for years now - at that Christmas party-" he winced slightly, pain crossing his face, "with Joffrey and then this whole week. Please forgive me."

He reached down, pushing back her hair, his rough fingertips grazing her cheek. His eyes burned intensely, searching her face. She cupped his face and before even thinking through her actions, she reached up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She felt the astonishment radiating off him, a faint gasp of air escaping him as she pulled away, her eyes lowering bashfully as she smiled. "Well," she breathed, looking up at him with shy eyes. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

He looked at her in amazement, his thumb rubbing her cheek. Slowly he leaned down, hesitating inches away from her face, his breathing uneven. She stilled, waiting for him to move, trying not to rush him into anything but aching for his touch. Finally his lips met hers, gently returning her kiss. He pulled her closer, fingers entwined in her hair as she leaned into his body as his kisses deepened. After a moment, he pulled away from her, breathing ragged as he looked at her. "I think I just might be in love with you, Sansa Stark."

A warm laugh escaped her lips as she reached up to steal another kiss from him. "I'm very glad to hear that." She murmured with shining eyes. "Because I'm madly in love with you, Sandor Clegane."