Sansa
Sansa picked a ringtone out, then she discreetly tried to angle her phone so she could take a picture of him, so that it came up if he called her. Sandor caught on quickly though. "What the hell are you doing?" he grumbled, holding his hand over her phone. "What? It's just a picture," she giggled, trying to pull his hand away. "I don't like having my picture taken," he growled, frowning. Sansa stopped struggling. "It's just for when…I mean if, you call me. Your picture comes up. I have it like that for almost everyone." She bit her lip, hoping she hadn't offended him and ruined the familiarity that had begun forming between them. She didn't want to spend the rest of the plane ride with him sulking and ignoring her.
Sandor scowled for a moment, then sighed. "Fine. But if you're going to take one, then it's going to be of me drinking a beer," he rasped, and lifted the bottle to his lips to take a swig. Sansa laughed and quickly took the picture. "Very nice." She was busy setting it when her phone buzzed and message from Joffrey popped up. With a frown, she swiped the screen and read it. "When do u land?" An innocent enough question, though Sansa knew he probably only wanted to know so that he could make an excuse not to be at the airport to welcome her home. Not that she minded.
She texted back, "A few hours. Gtg." Her mood ruined by Joffrey's intrusion, however slight. "Everything alright?" Sandor asked as he stuffed the empty bottle into the flap of the seat in front of him. Sansa copied him with her can. "Yea…just Joffrey." Sandor nodded, and they shared a look that meant mutual distaste for the blond haired boy.
For a while the plane ride continued in silence, with a few snatches of conversation here and there. Sansa was pretty tired from studying and taking all her exams, and she curled up in her seat, wishing she had brought her blanket as a carry-on. Sandor looked even more tired; she could see purple under his eyes and he yawned often. It didn't surprise her when he finally drifted off to sleep, so she contented herself with looking out the window. There wasn't much to see, though, and she grew restless, fidgeting in the seat. She glanced at Sandor. His head was back, eyes closed, and he was breathing deeply. Sansa decided to take the opportunity to study him again without interruption. She examined his face again, then trailed down to his neck, which was thick and covered by a scattering of hair. His grey sweater was cut simply, but it hugged his large frame, and Sansa could make out his muscles straining against the fabric, even as he was relaxing. Swallowing, she let her gaze drift lower, and she saw that he had left his phone on his leg.
Before she realized what she was doing, Sansa reached over and gently took his phone, praying that he wouldn't wake up and that it would be unlocked. Slowly she leaned back into her seat, and didn't move until she was sure he was still sleeping. Then she looked at the phone.
It was an Iphone as well, but an older model. Black, with a black case, and she could see a few scratches and chinks here and there. Evidence of the kind of work he did. She pressed the center button, and the screen lit up. It was unlocked. He forgot! she thought excitedly, then stopped. What was she doing? Was she really snooping around on the Hound's phone? For a moment she was torn between putting it back on his leg or continuing. Curiosity won.
She decided she would stay away from his texts. She didn't need to know anything more about his job, or see anything from Joffrey. He had very few apps, no games, or anything else that suggested he used the phone for more than a necessity for work. The background was a simple, faded blue. Sansa tapped the pictures icon, and was surprised when the folder came up empty. Another idea popped into her head, and she barely held in a giggle.
Sandor
A little ding sounded overhead, and Sandor snapped awake. "Attention, ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing in about twenty minutes. Please be sure to…" the female voice trailed off into directions, and Sandor blinked, trying regain his focus as he looked blearily around the plane. Everyone else seemed to be waking up to, from the sounds of yawns and groans. He felt stiff, but knew the nap had been worth it.
He was about shift in his seat when he finally noticed a pressure on his left shoulder, and red hair entered his vision. Sansa's head was resting on his shoulder. Stunned, he gazed down at her. Never had he expected this to happen, and he wasn't sure what to do at first. He knew she needed to wake up since they were landing, but it felt…nice, having her head resting on him. And warm. Her hair smelled liked roses.
Carefully, he reached a hand up and softly moved a few strands out of her face. "Little Bird," he murmured. "We're landing soon. Time to wake up." Sansa made an incoherent sound and shifted. "Five more minutes," she mumbled. Sandor chuckled. "Alright." A small smile graced her lips, and she settled onto his arm again. Sandor noticed his phone was sitting on his knee, and, amazed that it hadn't fallen off while he slept, he tucked it into his pocket. He blinked a few more times, trying to wake up and stretch without disturbing Sansa. Looking down at her again, he regretted spending the precious time he had with her by sleeping. It was doubtful he would ever get a chance to sit and talk with her again, especially once she broke up with Joffrey and was cut off from that family perhaps forever. The thought of never seeing her anymore caused a mixture of anxiousness, anger, and possessiveness to blossom inside his hard heart, one that had been as impenetrable as a steel fortress until Sansa came along.
You know you'll never have her, the bitter voice in his mind whispered. She's not meant for you, never was, never will be. Shaking his head, he decided five minutes had gone by. "Wake up, Little Bird," he rasped, and poked at her arm. Sansa gave another groan of protest, but this time she sat up. She stretched, and the bottom of her sweater scrunched up, letting a small sliver of creamy skin be exposed. Sandor quickly averted his eyes. Stupid. The girl noticed nothing as she continued to stretch and rearrange herself. She glanced at him sleepily and smiled. "Thanks for letting me use your arm as a pillow." He grunted in reply, unwilling to let her know how much he'd enjoyed it.
The seatbelt light turned on, and the clicking of metal was heard all over the plane as passengers prepared themselves. Sansa peered outside and put her coat on. "Oh, look! I can see the airport!" she said, gushing like a child on their first plane ride. Sandor allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch as he watched her growing excitement, though the jealous feeling continued to gnaw at him. She was going to be surrounded by her family shortly, and he was going to be forgotten. It's your fault you're behaving like a love-sick puppy, he berated himself. Just because the girl had flashed a few smiles at him didn't mean she had developed any sort of attraction for him. For all he knew, this was how she interacted around everyone now.
The landing went smoothly, and Sansa was practically bouncing in her seat as she waited for their turn to move into the aisles. As soon Sandor stood up, people behind them took a few steps back, allowing them plenty of room. Sansa grabbed her bag and he moved so that she could go first. He could hear the wind blowing against the metal tunnel as they exited and walked down a narrow hallway. Not having any carry-ons with him, Sandor simply put on his coat and shoved his hands in the pockets, resisting the impulse to place his hand on Sansa's back and steer her around the other trudging passengers.
They had to wait for a minute on their way to the gate, and Sansa turned to him, her eyes sparkling. 'Thanks for keeping me company on the plane," she said, shy again. She reached out and placed her cold little hand on his arm. Here we go, he thought, here's where she'll chirp her goodbyes and never see me again. "I really did enjoy talking to you, Sandor," she said softly. "Maybe we can…get coffee or sometime?" Sandor stared at her, dumbstruck. He hadn't expected her to actually want to hang out with him again. What did she want? Answer, you idiot! "Okay." Smooth. Sansa smiled warmly again. "I'll call you sometime," he added quickly, hoping he didn't sound nervous like some high school boy. "Yes! Please do," she answered. The line began to move, and moments later they were entering the airport, and Sandor watched as Sansa spotted her family gathered nearby and ran over to them. They laughed and pulled her into a dozen hugs. Sandor had stepped away, going along with the rest of the crowd so he wouldn't be seen, and after a moment Sansa was no longer in sight.
Wanting to get his suitcase before the rest of the Stark family came, he hurried to the luggage claim, which had thankfully begun running the belts. While he waited, he pulled out his phone to let Cersei Lannister know he was back and would get a taxi to the mansion. As the screen lit up, he froze. What the- He quickly swiped his thumb, and was greeted by a picture of Sansa, giving him a sweet smile. He stared at it. She had taken a selfie with his phone and set it as his wallpaper? What was she thinking? When had this happened? Then it hit him. She must have taken his phone while he was sleeping. Angrily he glanced through his files, checking the times with a security feature he had. None of his emails or texts or anything else important had been touched. He eyes spotted the pictures folder, which now informed him that he had ten photos.
Sweat appeared on his brow as he tapped the screen and was greeted with a collection of other pictures of Sansa, smiling or making goofy faces. In one of them she had even taken a picture of herself and him while he slept! Sandor didn't know whether to be upset or amused. The girl hadn't meant nay harm, he supposed. But now what to do with the pictures? Should he keep them, a sweet torturous reminder of her?
After a minute of consideration, he dialed Cersei's number, left her a voicemail, then stuck the phone back in his pocket. His suitcase came around, and he picked it up, heading for the sliding glass doors that barely kept the cold wind from swirling inside.