A/N- This imagine is based on the song 'Wasn't Expecting That' by Jamie Lawson. I hope you all enjoy it.
Your smile was the sweetest thing Sandor had ever seen. The moment he stepped foot within Winterfell there you were, grinning as if he were the King himself. He hadn't expected to enjoy his time in the north; it was cold and bleak, and there was little to make it any better. But then he had seen you, and all of that had changed.
You had wandered over to him as soon as you had the chance, still smiling as you reached him, craning your neck to look up at his face.
"Good morning," you had uttered, your voice as smooth and soft as silk. He hadn't wanted to admit it, but when your eyes were on his, his heart had skipped a beat, leaving him breathless. "May I ask your name?"
You knew his name, everyone knew his name, but the way you had asked, so innocent and sweet, pushed away any hint of his brutal nature. "Sandor," he had grunted, and you gave a small nod.
"Of course," you began again, "My name is Y/N. If there is anything you need during your stay, be sure to come directly to me." He nodded, averting his eyes when yours attempted to meet them. "I'll leave you to settle in. I hope I'll see you again soon, Sandor."
With that, you had swept off towards your oldest brother, who was watching your interactions. He wore a grimace as he locked eyes with Sandor for the first time, but when they found you his expression softened, a small smile finding its way onto his lips.
You had always seemed to have that effect on people, even when you were a tiny child, even the hardest heart would thaw in the flicker of an eye when you smiled at them.
It was then that Sandor decided to avoid you. You were far too kind to be involved with a man like him, a man who would happily tear a man limb from limb, a man who could barely even understand what love was. You deserved far better.
*Time Skip*
"I know that I may be somewhat overzealous at times," you had started one morning, causing Sandor to jump as you moved around the table to sit opposite him, "but I do not believe that is good enough reason to ignore me."
Sandor's jaw went slack, his mouth flapping open like a fish gasping as it flailed out of the water, "I'm not..." he started, but you shook your head, a small, delicate chuckle bubbling out from between your lips.
"I'm teasing you, Sandor."
You reached forward, pulling the book he had been holding out from under his hand and sliding it to rest in front of you. "The Tales of Dunk and Egg, My Lady," he explained, gesturing slightly at the pages in front of you.
"I know," you answered softly, glancing up at him with a smile, "they were always my favourite as a child. I used to come here to escape the chaos the boys created." You both paused for a moment, your eyes roving over Sandor's face. "Did you read it as a child?"
"No, My Lady, my father was much more set on making us into warriors than having us reading about adventurers."
You nodded, your smile fading for a moment. "It seems he was successful in his efforts."
Sandor hummed his agreement, his eyes finally lifting from the table to look you in the eyes. "Yes, My Lady."
"You needn't call me that, Sandor. It's a silly title, really."
"If you insist, My Lady." The look you fixed him with caught him off guard, the fire in your eyes as you glared causing his heart to go half-mad.
"Don't push your luck, Clegane," you mumbled, the anger slipping from your features as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a teasing smirk. He found that he missed it a little bit, the hidden side of you that few ever got to see, revealed to him.
You both sat quietly after that, as you slid the book back to him, watching as he settled it back into its position. "We didn't read much at all as children." Your brow furrowed slightly, and he found himself focused on the little wrinkle the found its way between your eyebrows. "We learnt the basics, but no one ever really taught me how to read."
"That's horrible," you started softly, "reading was always such fun when we were little. All of the stories were so engrossing, they used to have to tear me away from the books to eat dinner." Sandor snorted at your words, and you found yourself smiling at him once more. "I can recommend some books if you'd like. The ones I love."
*Time Skip*
The next day, Sandor opened his chamber door to find you smiling up at him, a stack of books balanced precariously in your arms. You had been so excited that you had almost dropped them all in your rush to get them inside, but he had shifted to catch the few that made the tumble out of your grip.
"Thank you," you called out as you slipped them onto the small table in the corner of the room, spinning once they were all in place, and giving him a wide grin. "I only chose my favourites."
He laughed at that, "looks like you brought me an entire library," he started, gesturing behind you. "I'm only here for a week," he added, "and I'm a pretty slow reader."
"Oh-" you paused for a moment, giving a small shrug, "-well, I'm sure father won't mind you taking a few with you."
Gods, you were so good it was almost painful. "I'm going to miss you when I go." He didn't know why he had allowed the words to escape from the confines of his throat, but he had, and the sweet look on your face was worth the moment of embarrassment.
Your lips were on his a moment later, your hands drawing his face down to your height as you felt his hands land on your hips. When you separated, your smile was nowhere to be found, and you simply shook your head. "I'm sorry," you told him softly, "I know that was far too forward of me-"
Sandor cut you off with another kiss, and this time when he pulled away, you were smiling again, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders.
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