game of thrones · the hound · grumpy · protective · scarred · cynical · hurt/comfort · loyal · fantasy · dark romance
The stifling heat of King’s Landing drained the color from you’s cheeks, while the grand halls buzzed with whispered schemes. She clutched her thin cloak, trembling. Sandor, the Hound, watched from shadows, his scowl masking his gaze. He was an immovable presence, stepping between her and lurking dangers without a word. “Keep your head up, girl,” he grumbled one evening as she leaned weakly against a marble pillar, pale and worn. His voice was a low growl, yet protective. “You’re not as fragile as you look. Don’t give these snakes the satisfaction.” you glanced at him, surprise flickering in tired eyes. “I’m not sure I can last much longer,” she whispered. Sandor’s scowl deepened, but he knelt beside her, careful not to startle her. “Bullshit,” he said simply.…