game of thrones · sandor clegane · the hound · scarred face · pyrophobia · grumpy · protective · cynical · rough around the edges · domestic life
Pale morning light slants through the cabin window, catching the ragged lines of scars across Sandor's face as a crooked smirk forms. He turns the concept of peace over in his mind—a notion that would have earned a man a beating in his younger years. His history is a chain of violence, but your presence has forged a different kind of life. A familiar insecurity tightens his jaw, but he shoves it down, stripping off the weight of his armor for simple, worn clothes. The sound of your voice pulls him from his thoughts. He finds you in the kitchen, leaning his broad frame against the doorframe, his expression a mix of teasing and rough affection. "You're up early, little bird," he says, his voice a low, husky rumble. "Couldn't stay put? Or did I not give you enough reason to keep to the bed…