Some rays of the morning sunlight came through the window and fell directly on Sandor's face. Though he was undisturbed at first, he wasn't a heavy sleeper, and he eventually slightly opened one of his eyes after the light had been bothering him for a couple of minutes.

His head was turned to the side, with his face resting of the soft and fluffy pillow, so the first thing that he saw with his eyes was the window. When he blinked directly at the sunlight he felt his eye itchy, so her closed it again immediately and turned his face away from the strong light of the morning. He blinked several times, fighting away the drowsiness that had taken hold of his body after a long night of very little sleep. Sandor rubbed his face with his left hand and took a deep breath, thinking about how relaxed and calm and relieved he felt. He hadn't felt like that in a long time. He felt… happy?

Then he felt her at his side. Sansa.

He lowered his gaze so that he could look at her. He almost couldn't believe that he was waking up next to Sansa Stark in the same bed, after having spent what was quite possible the best night of his entire life with her. Mesmerized by her beauty and by the fact that she was there, sleeping peacefully by his side, Sandor observed her in silence. He had fallen asleep on his back, like almost always, and the young woman had embraced him before falling asleep with her head in his naked chest. She had pressed her own body against his, with made both of them stay warm and comfortable during the night. She had laid her arm over and around him; the rest of their limbs were tangled around each other, with Sandor's right arm underneath Sansa's body and Sandor's right leg on top of Sansa's left leg, and her right leg on too and curled around his leg. It was almost impossible for them to be any closer, and Sandor felt a funny tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach.

He recalled the events of last night, and a storm of images invaded his mind. Memories of passionate moans and groans full of lust. Shared kisses in the dead of the night. Sandor found himself enjoying the memory of how sweet Sansa's mouth was; and not only her mouth was sweet...

The image of her twisting and moaning underneath him brought a smile to his lips that he was unable to fight off. Not matter how much he tried or wanted to, that morning there was nothing that could possibly turn his mood foul like always. He had kissed the Little Bird, and then she had sang for him. She sang a sweet and precious song, just for him to hear and no one else. He had made her his entirely, just as he had been hers in every way in which he possibly could.

Three times. Three times he had made love to her in the bedroom illuminated only by the moonlight that had come through the window. Three times during the entire night they had belonged to each other, and each time Sansa sang louder, and Sandor lost himself even further in the pleasure of having her between his arms. Three times in which he had enjoyed as much as he could of that beautiful and precious jewel that should have been for a dog like him to posses, but he had anyways, before they had finally fell victims of exhaustion.

He had never felt like that with a woman. No other had ever awoken in him the emotions that Sansa had awoken. While every other woman in his past had only been a means to satisfy his needs, Sansa had been much more. She had awoken in him a need for all of her, not just her body. The girl had fucking bewitched him, there was no other explanation to his absurd behavior and thoughts around her.

While never taking his grey eyes off her sleeping face, he moved his left hand to her bare back, which was not completely covered by the white sheet that covered both of them, and he gently stroked with the tips of his big and calloused fingers Sansa's soft white skin, yearning to feel all of her again.

He had tried to be as gentle with her as he could, more so that he wouldn't scare her off than because she needed it. Sansa was no maiden, that was sure. He had figured that out long before that night anyways, and he wasn't jealous that she had been someone else's before him, it was kind of normal. Besides, given by the pleasurably surprised expression of satisfaction in her face while he fucked her, he knew had probably been the best one. It was incredibly stupid and he knew it, but for some reason his male ego felt proud with that little piece of information.

After a few seconds caressing the soft and creamy skin of her back, Sandor realized that Sansa's eyelids were moving. He hesitated and almost moved his hand away from her, but them he decided against it and kept sliding the tips of his finger softly over her shoulders and spine. The simple contact sent sparks from his fingertips all the way through his body.

Sansa blinked softly and slowly opened her eyes the slightest bit. She appeared a bit confused at first, and her blue eyes were not really focused anywhere. Then, those amazing blue pupils found his grey ones and she locked her eyes on his, still with her eyelids half closed and a bit confused. That and her long red hair sprawled all over the pillow and her arm around Sandor's body gave her a very dreamy look.

Then, after a few seconds, she smiled. The corners of her small perfect mouth curled up ever so slightly, illuminating her expression. She had lifted her head off a bit from Sandor's chest, but just to look at him better.

"Good morning," she whispered.

Sandor felt both relieved and a bit scared after he heard her talk. Was she fully conscious of what had happened, did she remember everything? She looked still half asleep to him; maybe after she was less drowsy she would start regretting the last night.

"Good morning," he said after a few seconds, fighting off his worries. He kept looking into her eyes and caressing her bare back, and Sansa blinked slowly and made a face that reminded him of a purring cat that was being petted.

Then she opened her eyes a bit more and lifted her head more from his chest, looking straight at him with an inquiring expression.

"Was last night a dream?"

Sandor started to feel dread again after hearing her worlds. Did she want it to be a dream? A nightmare, perhaps? Would she run away from the bed, disgusted and horrified, once she confirmed that last night had been real?

"No," he finally said, not really knowing what to expect, but knowing also that there was no way of escaping from whatever Sansa's reaction was going to be.

To his delight and pleasant surprise, Sansa's red lips curled up again in a bigger smile than the previous one, and she sighed. She closed her eyes again and rested her head on Sandor's broad and powerful chest: she pressed her body even more to Sandor's, and then she took a deep breath and relaxed.

Sandor was dumbstruck, almost unable to believe what was happening. A small and genuine smile appeared on his face, pulling and twisting his terrible scars, but he didn't care about them at that moment. For once he was able to forget the misery that they had brought to him his entire life.

He continued to caress Sansa's bare back with his right hand, and he moved his left arm to caress with that hand her soft and rosy cheek. Sansa smiled when she felt his fingers stroking her cheekbones, and she chuckled lightly. She took her arm away from around his waist and placed her hand on his muscled chest, and moved her fingers between the dark curly hairs that were there. It provoked a tinkling sensation to Sandor, and as a response a low pleasurable groan came from the back of his throat. It felt so good when Sansa touched him…

Slowly, his own eyes started to close again, and he buried his face in Sansa's hair. He sniffed and smelled her delicious scent, so sweet and fresh… Everything just felt glorious.

Damn me, I must have died and gone to the wrong place instead of the Seven Hells… Or maybe I am in the Seven Hells, and this is my torture. Having a taste of her when I know that she will never be completely mine, he thought, feeling an awful regret then.

It was true; Sansa could never be his. He might have shared her bed and fucked her senseless all throughout the night, but Sansa was engaged to another. She belonged to that prick Joffrey, and Sandor wasn't enough of a fool to believe that he would ever let her go. Even then, Sandor pretty much doubted that Sansa could ever be with anyone else. Sandor knew Joffrey very well; the young man either had to have what he wanted, or no one else would have it.

They were resting in peace and silence on the bed for a couple of minutes, feeling their bodies pressed against each other, hearing the deep sound of their breathing, and slightly touching and caressing each other. The window was wide open, covered only by some curtains, and a slight breeze entered the bedroom and made goosebumps appear on their skin. Sandor tightened his arms around Sansa so that she wouldn't be cold, and he enjoyed the warmth that her naked body beneath the sheets provided him. They laid there together in silence listening to the distant sound of the waves breaking in the beach, not far away from the mansion.

The peace and was broken when a phone started ringing. Sandor did not recognize the ring tone, which was a pop song (he would meet have a buggering pop song as a ring tone!) so he deduced it was Sansa's phone. This was confirmed when she groaned, bothered by the interruption of whoever it was that was calling her at that early hour, and she lifted her head from Sandor's chest and turned it to the side to look for her phone. Sandor opened his eyes and watched her search for the phone with her eyes, until they both realized that the phone was inside the girl's bag on a chair at the other side of the room. She groaned again and decided to ignore it, not feeling on the mood to attend any calls at that moment.

The phone stopped ringing, only to start again a few moments later. Sansa completely ignored it, though Sandor found it very annoying after multiple seconds of constant ringing.

"Who could it be?" he asked then, wondering who in Seven Hells would call Sansa at that unholy hour in the morning.

"I don't care," she groaned, but her voice was muffled against his skin because she had buried her face in the space between his neck and his shoulder. The movement of her lips against his neck sent another set of sparks all through his body.

"What if it is your beloved fiancé?" Sandor asked, putting as much sarcasm as he could in the word "beloved". If it was Joffrey the one who was calling to check in Sansa or whatever, they could get in trouble.

Sansa still didn't care.

"He can leave a message," was her simple answer.

She hoped that the caller would give up and maybe try again later, but that didn't happen. Whoever was calling was persistent in his attempt of reaching Sansa, and by the fifth time that the cell phone rang Sansa understood that the person wasn't going to stop until she got up for the bed and answered the call. She sighed exasperated, and removed her face from Sandor's neck, leaving him with an empty sensation in that place.

"Excuse me..." she said as she removed her limbs from around him and tried to get up from the bed.

She stopped trying when she realized that she was completely naked, and apparently she didn't fancy the idea of walking all the way across the room like that. She tried to take the bedsheets with her and cover herself with them, but that would leave Sandor completely naked on the bed with nothing to cover him. As soon as Sansa noticed that, her cheeks turned bright red. Sandor saw her and laughed under his breath, impressed by the fact that she was still able to feel ashamed or embarrassment, even though she had proven to him that she wasn't some innocent and clueless little girl last night.

Sandor watched with interest while Sansa decided; he was curious as to whether if she was going to prefer to walk around naked in front of him (which he would greatly appreciate), or she was going to prefer to leave him exposed so that she could be covered. He put his hands behind his head and raised an eyebrow, giving Sansa a mischievous look. She turned her eyes to him, embarrassed at first, but then an equally mischievous grin spread through her face and immediately after she took the white sheets and put them around her like a cloak, covering herself. She stood up from the bed and left Sandor completely naked and in full sight for her to see. She crossed the room to get to her purse, inside of which the phone continued ringing non-stop. She fished it out of the bag and proceeded to take the call, not before turning around and roaming her eyes all over Sandor's nakedness long on her huge bed. She bit her lower lip in a sexy and wanton way, and her eyes filled with the same desire that Sandor had seen in her last night.

When Sandor saw that fire returning to her, he threw his head back a little and roared with laugher, amused and pleased by the wolf in which Sansa had become.

"Ssssshhhhh!" she urged him to go silent, putting her index finger over her lips.

He stopped laughing, and Sansa lowered her eyes to see in the screen of her smartphone who was calling.

"Oh, really?!" she exclaimed, not amused. Sandor wondered who it was. Sansa took a deep breath before finally answering the call, and she made an effort to smile and be charming. When she talked, her voice was sweet and welcoming. "Hey, Petyr!"

Sandor frowned. Petyr? As in Petyr Baelish, her agent? What was he doing calling so fucking early in the morning? Sandor did not like that man. He hadn't paid him a lot of attention in particular when he had seen him in person, but later he took a bit of interest in the man that spent hours with Sansa outside of the Red Keep mansion, so he did some research. The man didn't come from an important or rich family, but he had become wealthy in no time after he graduated from University. He had been responsible for discovering lots of people with the potential to become artists (most of them were women), and turning them into music and Hollywood stars. Sansa had been his biggest and most important success. Sandor didn't particularly like the man, but he didn't find any reasonable reason to mistrust him, so he had paid him no further attention until he called Sansa at that moment.

Sansa was silent while she listened to Petyr talking on the other side of the line. She frowned, and then her mouth took the shape of a small "o".

"Wait, what do you mean I am late...? Oh! Oh, Petyr, I'm so sorry, I forgot to tell you! With the funeral and everything and then I had to do a lot of stuff and I forgot, forgive me! I'm not in King's Landing, didn't Joffrey tell you?"

She listened in silence again while Baelish talked, and Sandor waited patiently for her on the bed. At that moment he really, deeply disliked the man for calling. Couldn't he have done that fucking later?

Sansa heard something that surprised her.

"Oh! They sent it? Really?" She raised her eyebrows, suddenly she looked more interested in the call. She leaned against the wall while she kept listening to Baelish's words, and Sandor listening with curiosity, wondering what was going on. "Ok, well, I can't go and pick it up because, you know, I'm miles away from King's Landing," she chuckled. "Could you send it to me? You just did that? Good! Okay, I'll take a look at it and... I'll get back to you! Sounds good? When do we have to confirm if I want it or not?"

Silence. Then Sansa nodded her head.

"Alright. Ok, so how about if I call you in four days?" she asked. "Yeah. Okay, perfect! Thank you so much, Petyr, you are the best."

Sandor narrowed his eyes and felt something dark building up inside him right after he heard Sansa saying that. What the fuck? Was he jealous?

He snorted, annoyed, and Sansa moved her eyes back to him. She saw his angry (and yes, he had to admit it. Jealous! Jealous like a mad dog!) expression and she grinned, taking amusement in his discomfort. He growled again, indignant by the fact that she found his jealousy towards the compliments that she gave other men amusing. She put her index finger against her mouth to remind him to remain silent still, and she fought the urge to giggle a bit. Sandor found himself rolling his eyes, which he never usually did, but the situation was ridiculous. He was feeling jealous over a girl saying mere courtesies to another man, and the girl wasn't even his girl to begin with. Pathetic.

"Bye Petyr. Have a good day!" Sansa said with her sweet and charming voice, often reserved for the public.

After saying her goodbyes she hung up the phone and she threw it back inside her purse before looking at Sandor again. As soon as her eyes met his she giggled out loud, not being able to resist after seeing his scowl.

"He is the best, isn't he?" Sandor scoffed, provoking Sansa to laugh a little bit harder than before.

"I make a lot of money thanks to him, I guess a little bit of flattery is in order!" she explained, crossing the room to reach the bed.

"Ah, so you are manipulating him, aren't you? Lying to the poor bugger and keeping his hopes up," he mocked.

"Well, he is my agent after all. If I don't keep him happy he might go around spilling my dirty little secrets..." Sansa said playfully, and then she pouted. Once she was next to the bed she laid down on it, but instead of lying of the soft mattress she laid on top of Sandor's naked body. She tangled her fingers in the dark hair of his chest, and he surrounded her body with his strong arms, keeping her close to him.

He raised his eyebrows with interest.

"Oh really? You have dirty little secrets?"

She shrugged, still grinning playfully. "Doesn't everybody?"

He knew she was joking, but he liked the game she was playing. He liked this more fun side of Sansa, so different and alive compared to the way in which she was in King's Landing, around all those politicians that were slowly consuming her.

"Maybe," he nodded. "Am I going to be one of the little secrets that he knows about?"

"No," she said immediately, becoming very serious all of a sudden. She lowered her gaze and stared down at her hands on his chest for a couple of seconds before staring back at him again. Her expression was sad. "No one can know."

"I know, little bird," he said, turning more serious as well. "I know. I was just joking."

"I know, but..." Sansa didn't finish her sentence, and she sighed, worried.

"Tell me something," he said then. "Last night. Do you regret it?"

He needed to know. For some reason, he really needed to know. Was he only a one night stand that many nothing? Was he a mistake made by a young woman desperate to escape her awful reality? What had last night been? How did Sansa feel? He expected her to say yes, that she did regret it, that it had been wrong, a mistake. However, there wasn't any hesitation either in her eyes nor voice when she said:

"Never."

Immediately after she made that confession, small as it was, but so meaningful and sincere, Sandor placed his huge hand gently in Sansa's nape and pulled her in for a kiss. He pressed his lips against hers and heard Sansa gasp by the sudden movement, but she smiled against his mouth and didn't resist at all to his approach. She welcomed and he could feel it; he then opened her mouth with his tongue and introduced it inside her small and warm mouth, joining it in a wet and sexual dance with Sansa's tongue. He heard her moaning in the back of her throat, and felt his body quickly reacting to her as soon as she moved her hands over his chest and then put her arms around his neck, pressing herself closer to him. Because she wasn't holding the sheets around her anymore and because she had moved her arms, the sheets slipped a bit off her, revealing her naked upper body. Sandor's hands moved to the part of her back that was bare and he held her against him possessively. He deepened the kiss, filling the room with wet sounds and muffled groans of pleasure; he wanted to flip her on her back and lay on too of her and make her his for a fourth time.

He was about to decide to do just that when Sansa broke the kiss and gently pulled away from him. He opened his eyes and found her staring at him with a broad smile on her lips. He questioned her with his eyes, and she giggled and leaned in to kiss him again, shortly this time. Before breaking the kiss again, she bit down softly on his lower lip, pulling from it and teasing him before letting go and getting up from the bed. She ran away from the room like a little girl that had done something mischievous, leaving him behind, staring at the door where she had disappeared from sight.

He was going to go after her, but first he started thinking. Just yesterday he was feeling miserable over the fact that he could never have that beautiful and wonderful woman that he only recently had discovered that he desired more than anything. What was there about her to not desire? He couldn't think of a thing. He had spent hours hating himself and his bad luck for who he was, because being that horribly scarred and ill-tempered dog took away from him all chances of ever being able to have at least a bit of Sansa. And now there he was, on her bed, and she was his. Perhaps she wants his in the complete and strict sense of the word; yes, she still belonged to another, and he hated that. But she had been his in the most intimate way possible, and it had been genuine. It had been real.

Forgetting just once about how much he hated sentimentalities, he thought to himself for the first time in his life what a fucking lucky old dog he was.

They had breakfast together. They didn't speak much, perhaps feeling a little shy over the recent events, but Sandor definitely enjoyed the flush that was still present in Sansa's cheeks. She had put on a robe, and her hair was loose and fell over her shoulders and back like a cascade of red waves. Sandor wasn't walking around naked anymore, he had taken a very quick shower and he had put on his usual bodyguard black suit. He drank his morning coffee while he observed Sansa sipping her tea; he was amused when he discovered that he liked the way in which she carefully blowed her tea to cool it off. Everything about Sansa screamed "lady", and yet, he loved that about her. She was everything that he had always disliked, and yet, she was it in a way in which he really liked it. There was something odd and special about her.

The rest of the morning went by peacefully. Sansa left to take a shower and when she returned downstairs she was wearing a green bikini, displaying her perfect body, and she was carrying a big bunch of printed papers. Sandor had heard something printing from the computer in the office upstairs, and he wondered what it was.

Sansa say down on a deck chair next to the pool, with her head under the shade and the rest of her body under the sun, and she proceeded to read the papers that she had printed. Sandor left her there and went around the house for some time doing some stuff that he had to do, and after he was done he stepped outside of the mansion and walked towards the deck chair where Sansa was sitting, and he discovered that she had already read most of the papers. She was a fast reader.

"What is it?" he asked, and she noticed for the first time that he was there.

"A script for a new movie. The director told Petyr that he wants me in it because he loved my performance in "Gunslinger". This is why he called me before, they just sent him the script last night and he wanted me to read it."

"What is it called?"

"The Bear and the Maiden Fair."

He scoffed when he heard the title.

"Seriously? What kind of title is that? What his the movie about?"

"It's a romantic comedy! It's about a young girl who finds love where she thought she would never find it. Here, look, this is the song of the movie. The director said that he would at least want me to perform the song even if I end up not having the part."

She took one of the sheets of paper and handed it over to him. He took it and read the first line, which was the title of the song, named the same as the movie: "The Bear and the Maiden Fair." He started reading the lyrics and was halfway through them when he noticed something. First he frowned, then he raised his eyebrows with surprise, and finally with roared with laugher. Sansa took her attention away from her reading to look at him, and she asked him what was so funny after he was done laughing his arse off.

"He licked the honey from her hair?" he asked, reading out loud the line from the lyrics that had made him laugh. Then he gave Sansa a knowing look. "You know that it does not have a literal meaning, right?"

"Of course I know it means something else!" Sansa exclaimed, offended by the way in which he was looking at her, like she was some innocent and clueless school girl. "I'm not stupid, and I wasn't born yesterday!"

"I know," he said, accompanying his sentence with a lusty look from his eyes, meaning to imply something else with his response. How could he not know that Sansa wasn't a clueless innocent little girl, when last night that had been proved? Sansa understood him again and scoffed, returning her attention to her reading. Sandor laughed under his breath and read the song again.

"What kind of movie is this anyway, with a song like this? Fucking bestiality?"

Sansa gasped, and tried to respond but was unable to, because the words kept getting caught in her mouth. She turned bright red and shook her head, disgusted by some mental image that Sandor's comment might have planted in her head.

"No!" she was finally able to protest. "However, it is not very... discreet."

"Really?" he wondered. "Joffrey will not be happy."

And neither will I, he thought, knowing that he would be really angry if he saw Sansa in some movie with some stupid actors and hot scenes. However, he did not mention that, for he couldn't do anything about it if she decided to take the part in that movie. Besides, she was a singer and an actress, and weren't those people doing that kind of stuff the whole time?

Sansa shrugged and chuckled.

"I know, that's the funny part. I'm forced to be his puppet the whole time and he controls everything that I do, but my job is something that slips through his fingers more often than not. I'm dying to see his face when he hears that I've been offered the main role in this movie. There is a sex scene" She pretended to be completely shocked and gasped in a very fake way, later covering her mouth with her hand and looking at Sandor with wide eyes. "Scandalous!"

She went back to her normal expression, but she had left a smile of Sandor's face. There was a strong spark in Sansa, there was no doubt about that. She fought with what she could.

"I don't even know yet if I'm going to accept it, but I don't care if Joffrey doesn't like it. He will have to shut his mouth, because he won't want to raise any suspicion with the press, and that's what will happen of he forbids me to take the part."

"He deserves to burn in hell for what he has done to you," Sandor rasped, suddenly feeling very angry.

"I know, but I can't do anything," Sansa said, saddened. "If I try anything, he will hurt my family. My brothers, my mother... even my nephew. I can't let him do that."

"If it wasn't for me, he would be dead," Sandor rasped bitterly, remembering how he had pushed Joffrey out of the way of the bullet that should have killed him, but had killed Governor Renly Baratheon instead. "You would be safe."

"You are his bodyguard," Sansa retorted. "You didn't have a choice, you did what you had to do. I'm not angry at you for saving his life. Besides, I would be safe from him, but I wouldn't be safe from Cersei or Tywin. They would never let me go back to my family, I know too much."

"Maybe your sister will try to kill them too," Sandor suggested.

"Can we please stop talking about this? I don't want to think about Joffrey or his family. I am finally away from them, I want some peace," Sansa asked, and Sandor nodded his head. She was right, she deserved a break from all of them and all the Lannister shit. Sansa went back to reading the script while Sandor stood still next to her, watching her. After a minute or so, she sighed and put the pages that she was reading away, placing them on a small table that was next to the deck chair. She stood up from the deck chair and took a step towards Sandor. When she was in front of him she put her arms around him, and he did the same to her.

"Are you alright, little bird?" he asked, noticing that her little smile was a little sad.

"Yes," she nodded. "It's just that... I know that we have just started to be, eh... closer yesterday," as soon as she said that she turned bright red again, and her smile became bigger. "But I, eh... I really like you," she confessed, having a little trouble to find the right words to express what she wanted to say. She was embarrassed, so her face continued to be bright red and she wasn't able to look at Sandor in the eyes for several seconds, but when she finally looked at him he could see that she was being sincere. "And, as long as we are here, I want us to spend as much time together as possible, before I... Well, before I have to go back and... get married..."

Right. Eventually they would both be taken away from that small paradise and thrown back to the capital. Their little fantasy that they had just formed would be broken. Sandor would go back to being the bodyguard, and Sansa... she would become Mrs Baratheon. She would definitely be out of his reach... forever.

One thing of what Sansa had said got stuck in his mind, and made him grin.

"You really like me, little bird?" he asked, feeling like a lovesick fool. He barely recognized himself that morning. "You like this ugly, rude, old, poor dog?"

"First of all, you are not a dog," she immediately said. "And you are not old. And I couldn't care less about money."

"But you don't deny that I'm ugly."

"Sandor..." Sansa raised her hand and touched his burned cheek. He couldn't feel almost anything because the nerves had been burned, and he expected her to be disgusted by the twisted scars and pull her hand away, but she didn't. "Didn't I tell you once? Lately I have discovered that there are so many things to one's beauty. The physical part is overrated. Why do I want a handsome man when he is a monster inside? Besides, this scars mean nothing. They are not you, they are just the mark that was left after a terrible accident that happened to you. Don't let them define who you are."

"Wise words for a little bird," he murmured, unsure of what else to say, or think.

"Contrary to what most people think, I'm not stupid, Sandor. And I mean what I said before, I really like you. You scared me when I first met you. You were a... a rude asshole," she said. If felt strange to hear her curse, when she was always so polite and proper, but she was being sincere. "But then I met the real you. The version of you that was kind to me when no one else was, even though you had no reasons to be nice to me at all. So, if you want, I want to spend as much time with you in this place just being a normal, happy person."

She thought that she could be normal and happy with him. Had Sandor been told that by someone a couple of days ago, he would have never believed it, and he would have choked whatever idiot had dared to say such a stupidity to him. But now he was hearing those words directly from Sansa's mouth. He liked her plan; just being together in that place, away from the politics and the people and everybody that was hurting her, that made her life miserable, that forced her every day to become someone fake, someone that wasn't the real her, or at least not anymore. She knew that she didn't have to be scared around Sandor, and he was glad that she knew that. He had promised to himself that he wouldn't let any more harm come to her if he could avoid it, and now he had the chance to make her happy for at least a little while. He had never been good at making people happy, but he believed he could. He was being given the option of trying at least. He could try to make Sansa happy while he was alone with her. He had made her happy since they arrived at the mansion, had he not? And she had made him happy as well. Who would have ever thought that...

"You know that I will still be a rude asshole frequently, don't you?" he asked her.

She laughed a little bit and nodded.

"Yes."

"And you know that you'll be regretting ever wanting to spend time with me probably very soon?"

"I doubt it very much, but whatever you say."

"And still, you want to spend time with me?"

"Don't you?" she asked.

As a response, Sandor pulled Sansa closer to him and before she could react, he pressed his lips against hers and kissed her passionately. Sansa gasped against his mouth, surprised, but she kissed him back and threw her arms around his neck. Sandor's hands roamed over her body, covered only by the green bikini. Her skin was warm after being exposed to the sun, and it felt good to touch her.

They broke apart when they started feeling short of breath. They still had their arms around each other, and their faces were so close to each other that their noses touched. They stood there for a couple of seconds before Sansa walked away from Sandor and went to pick something from the table next to the deck chair. Then she turned around to face him again and held up what she had picked up: sunscreen.

She waved the bottle in front of him.

"Will you lend me a hand with this?" the asked, turning her back to him. A playful smile decorated her face again. "I can't reach my back..."

Grinning, Sandor took a few steps towards her and picked up the bottle from her hands. She laid faced own on the deck chair while he opened the bottle and spilled some sunscreen into his hands before kneeling at her side, and he started applying the sunscreen on her smooth back, being as gentle as he could.

She closed her eyes and purred like a cat.

"Oh, that feels nice..."

Sandor leaned in over her and placed a kiss on the small of her back, which now tasted of cream, and he worked his way with his mouth all the way up her spine until he reached her shoulders, and then her neck.

"Don't get too used to it, little bird."