Nothing Left There (Sandor Clegane x reader)*

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(*- Dropped in Another World trope)

You were walking home from work when you heard something out of the ordinary. A very loud crash from the alley, too loud for a simple alley cat to make. Curious, you gripped belongings tightly and walked toward the sound. You pulled up short when you saw what had made the noise. A giant of a man in armor with burns all over one side of his face. Compared to him, you were small. Almost anyone would be. He had to stand at almost 7 feet tall.

As you were debating on what to do, the man let out a low groan followed by a curse. Maybe he just had too much to drink? If that was the case, you could help him find his way home or a place to sleep off the booze. But what was with the armor?! Another groan pulled your attention back to him. Biting your lip, you stepped closer into the alley and prayed to whatever deity there might be that he didn't murder you.

"Are you hurt?" you asked. He turned his face to you and you nearly gasped at the sight of blood covering the other half of his face. You swore loudly before moving closer to check on him. "Not...mine," he told you when you were close enough. You asked him again if he were hurt. He nodded with another groan. You wanted to turn and walk away, but the nurse in you wouldn't let you. So you did probably the stupidest thing you could. You moved closer and, after a lot of struggle, managed to get the giant to the nearest place. Your home.

As soon as you opened the door to your home, you were cursing yourself. You should have never let your friends talk you into dressing up to go to the club. Your nice clothes were now covered in blood. You got the man situated on your sofa before going to get some supplies to clean him up and see where he was injured. He tried to scoot away from you, but you glared. "You sit still and let me work. I need to see where you're hurt so I can fix it."

He let out a grunt before trying to push your hands away. You huffed as you placed your hands on your hips and thought. He was acting like a child so maybe you could distract him the way you would a child. You flicked on the television and put something mindless on. His eyes were automatically drawn to the moving pictures, causing you to smirk. At least he was distracted long enough for you to get him cleaned up. You had no idea how this man would end up changing your life. Or his own.

*time skip. Sandor POV*

"Blasted contraption!" Sandor yelled as he tripped over the damned thing you'd called a Roomba yet again. A chuckle behind him made Sandor spin around. "I'll schedule it to run while you sleep next time," you offered, "Ready to go?" Sandor nodded, eager to get out of the house for the first time since he'd arrived in your world over a month before. A world so very different than the one he left. While it wasn't exactly untouched by violence, it was nothing compared to what he was used to. And you...you were so innocent and caring. Even though you were surrounded by blood and death often, you never let it change your nature. That was something new to Sandor and, if he were honest, he'd admit he liked that about you. He liked a lot of things about you.

He liked how your face lit up when you were trying to teach him about your world, especially technology. He liked that you didn't judge him for his appearance. You did your best to make him comfortable, especially after he'd explained everything to you. He liked that you didn't get frustrated when he didn't grasp concepts right away. He liked just how generous you were despite everything. And mostly he liked that you consistently reassured him that he didn't have to fight. He didn't have to harm others. He didn't have to answer to anyone but himself.

"Come on," you prompted and Sandor followed you out of your home. As soon as he was outside, he was grateful for all you'd done to start acclimating him. If you hadn't, he probably would have been overwhelmed by everything he was experiencing now. He was still a bit taken back by so much of...everything. You laughed softly and took his hand. When he looked down then back up at you, you simply shrugged and said something about him not getting lost. He felt his face warm up.

The rest of the day, Sandor let you lead him from place to place as you ran your errands. People occasionally stared, but no one said anything. They were all too engrossed in their own business to really care. It was nice that people didn't cower away all the time. The time out was enjoyable, if not tiring. Sandor found himself doing something he couldn't remember doing since he was a child. Having fun. He listened to you ramble on about one thing or another. The only uncomfortable part of the day was clothing shopping. Sandor was a big man and it was difficult to find modern clothing to fit him. Eventually he did find a few things and the two of you were able to return home.

That night, Sandor couldn't sleep so he stayed in your living room with the television playing softly in the background. You were returning to work the next day and Sandor didn't know what he was going to do with himself. But he also wondered how long you'd be okay with him staying with you. What if he never found his way back to Westeros? Did he even want to? What was there for him? War? Famine? Blood and death?

"Sandor?" your voice came from behind him. He glanced back and hummed in response. "Can't sleep?" He shook his head. You came over and sat in the small space on the sofa that his large body wasn't occupying. You didn't say anything, opting to wait for him to open up if he was going to. Sandor contemplated not replying, but he needed to know what direction his life was going.

"I don't know what to do." You smiled at him and nodded. "You don't have to do anything. If you want to find a hobby or job, we can try and find something for you. I have some contacts that can help. But...what if we find a way to get you back home?" Your voice softened enough to make Sandor look at you. If he didn't know better, he'd say you looked almost sad about the topic.

"I-I don't know. There's nothing there for me. By all rights, I should be dead." You bit your lip. "And...is there something here for you?" Sandor blinked in surprise. That wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been expecting. Were you hoping for something? "Do you think there is?" You shifted a little, angling your body to face him a bit more.

"I think there could be," you admitted in a whispered tone, "I-I think I'm falling in love with you." Sandor nearly fell off the sofa at your confession. You had to be messing with him. Right? No one could love him or his ruin face. As if you could read his mind, you said, "You don't believe me?"

"Can you blame me?" came the reply. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "How many times do I have to say it? Your. Scars. Do. Not. Matter. They are part of you, but they aren't who you are. Your past does not matter as long as you've learned from the mistakes you've made. You've never once shown me that you are unlovable. Some people may not like your personality, but I'm not one of them. I enjoy spending time with you. I like you, Sandor. I love you."

You said it with such conviction, Sandor would have been stupid not to believe you. And he really didn't know what to say. He'd never been big on words anyway, especially not ones involving feelings. Sandor Clegane was a man of action. To that end, he brought his hand to cup the back of your head and leaning forward. You reached up to clasp his arm with a smile.You let him rest his forehead on yours. "Don't leave," you whispered."'M not going anywhere," came the reply. While Westeros held nothing for him, here and now, Sandor could have an entirely new life. With you.

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