(Warnings: mentions of fire and arguing.)
Your relationship with Sandor was unexpected, but no less passionate. The two of you argued the way you loved. With everything you had. This time was no different. Your love was at his wit's end with you. It was strange. You were arguing about marriage. Sandor wanted to marry you. In his mind, he was finally loved and he never wanted to let that go. Meanwhile you weren't looking to get married. Not yet anyway.
"Why are you pushing this so hard, Sandor?" you asked, blowing a bit of hair out of your face. He didn't answer. He sank down into a chair and stared at you. You rolled your eyes and groaned. "This," you began gesturing between the two of you, "This is why I do not wish to marry. You cannot even tell me why it is you want to marry me and if you cannot tell me, then I cannot marry you."
"What do ya want from me?"he inquired causing you to scoff. "If you haven't figured it out by now, then this argument is pointless." You opened the door and left the room in a huff. Sandor grumbled as the door slammed behind you. "Damnable woman," he muttered. He sat there in silence for several minutes, his mind racing. He didn't want to lose you, but he wasn't sure how to put what he felt into words. There was never a need before. He knew this time was different, however. He was trying to make you his for life.
A few minutes later, there was a frantic knocking at the door. He got up and wrenched the door open. He glanced down to see Tyrion Lannister there, a look of panic on his face. "Clegane! It's Y/N!" Sandor didn't wait to hear another word. He grabbed his sword and followed the dwarf out of the Red Keep. All memories of the argument left Sandor's mind as he raced out of the place. His only thought was finding and saving you.
He heard your screams first. Then, he saw it. The fire. For a brief moment, Sandor stopped in his tracks. If he were a praying man, Sandor would have prayed that he was seeing things and that you weren't in the tavern that was currently burning. In that moment, Sandor realized why he wanted to marry you. The thought of you being taken from him was almost too much to bear. He never wanted to be without you. So, facing his worst fear, Sandor pushed his way into the burning tavern.
It only took him a moment to find you. You were on the floor, coughing violently from the smoke. As quickly as he could, Sandor grabbed you and ran. The flames had not yet made their way to the doors, but the smoke was making is difficult to breathe. Still, Sandor races to get out before the entire place is consumed in flames. He just barely makes it and, by the time you're out, your eyes have closed. Sandor worries he was too late, that you suffocated.
A moment later, you let out a cough and Sandor visibly relaxes. He breathes a sigh of relief when your (e/c) eyes opened again. "Sandor," you greeted hoarsely, "I'm sorry." You coughed again and Sandor held you closer. He didn't reply until you were both safely back in your shared chambers. "Ya got nothing to be sorry for. Ya were right." That was all he said, but that was enough.
He handed you some water which you gladly drank. "You saved me from the fire. You could have left me." He shook his head. "I couldn't." Once your breathing had regulated, you grabbed a nearby cloth to wash the ash and soot from your body. "You hate fire, Sandor." He shrugged. "I hate the thought of losin' ya more. I couldn't let ya die." You smiled and put the cloth down, not caring that you hadn't finished.
You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him. "I'm sorry, Sandor. For fighting with you. I know you love me and I do want to marry you, if you'll still have me." He kissed your forehead. "I think the question is if you'll have me?" You laughed softly. "Of course I will." You lifted your chin so you could lean up and press your lips to his. "I love ya, Y/N," he whispered and you couldn't fight the grin on your lips. Sandor wasn't one to say those words and you returned them happily.