Game of Thrones - One Shots/Imagines: Part Three

Sandor Clegane X Reader - Latch

A/N - This chapter is based on the song 'Latch' by Sam Smith and Disclosure. It's a little short, but I hope you all enjoy it.

Sandor had always believed that public displays of affection were something to be scoffed at. The way women would fawn over a kiss to the back of their hands from some handsome young lord was enough to make him queasy. It had always been a foreign idea to him, allowing the most intimate and vulnerable moments to become viewing for other people.

When his father had insisted he take a wife, he had resisted. He was miserable enough already, without the weight of causing another person to be miserable sitting on his shoulders too. So he had told his father no, and of course, his wishes had been ignored. 

And then he had been introduced to you, and for a moment he regretted ever having pushed against his father's will. You were pretty, far prettier than he had ever felt he would deserve, and the sweet way you smiled at him when you'd first met was enough to shake him to his core. 

After that, his lack of interest in marriage had faded, and he'd tried his hardest to be kind with you. Not that you had ever wanted him to be. "If you're going to be a brute once we're married, you should tell me now. I can't stand surprises," you had murmured. He'd turned up to your weekly meeting grouchy, and you'd taken it upon yourself to raise his spirits. "But, I don't think you will be," you pressed on, humming slightly as you leant back in your chair to survey him. "I think you're a much nicer man than most of the Lords that live in this Gods forsaken city."

That had manage to raise a smile from Sandor, even if it was a hesitant one, and you'd instantly brightened. "I won't be a brute," he answered, his voice comforting you after his rather unsettling silence throughout the evening. "Not to you," he added.

After you were married, you'd only continued to pull down the walls Sandor had built for himself. Where he had once considered himself impossible to love, he now saw how you cared for him so effortlessly. When he would kiss you, you would get all bashful, hiding your face against his neck, and he couldn't help the way he filled with pride at the reaction. You loved him, and there was no denying it. 

And then you'd begun to show that love outside of your chambers. At a dance, you would lean into his side, taking comfort from his closeness as the other party goers milled around you. In the gardens, you would link your fingers with his, your arms swinging wildly as you laughed at some comment he had made. You had latched onto him with a sweetness he had never expected to receive, and suddenly, he had forgotten that there was anyone else in the city but you. In fact, even when he was aware of the eyes watching you, he couldn't bring himself to care. 

"You know," he had hummed one evening, his arm wrapped firmly around your shoulders as you stood off to the side of the Great Hall. You quickly glanced up, locking your eyes onto his, and raising your eyebrows as you waited for him to continue. "I always thought I would be better off on my own," he pressed on, his arm shifting to pull you closer into his side. "Thought I would make any woman in my life so miserable that it wasn't worth trying-" Your head tilted slightly , a small frown pulling at your lips at his confession. "You're happy, aren't you?" 

"I've never been happier," you uttered, lifting your hand to cup his cheek. "You make me so unbelievably happy," you repeated, leaning in to press your forehead against his lips. 

Sandor remained silent for a moment, his hands keeping you rooted in the position you'd manoeuvred in to. "Good," he murmured. "I'm glad." 

You couldn't help but smile at him, pulling back to glance up into his eyes for a moment. "I love you," you started, watching as a smile of his own bloomed on his features. "And I'm not going to be going anywhere, so you'd better get used to it," you added, hearing a snort of laughter escape him. 

His hand ran down your back, causing you to press closer into his side. "Good," he hummed, his eyes flitting around the room, checking for anyone looking at the two of you. "Because, now I've got you, I'm never letting go again," he pressed on, his eyes coming back to land on your face for just a moment. And then he was leaning down, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. 

When he pulled away, you were flustered, your eyes wide as you stared up at him. "Sandor," you scolded softly, slapping at his arm lightly. "We're in public," you continued, the half smile on your lips already giving away that you weren't quite as annoyed as you wanted to be. 

"Just want to show these people how much I love you," he murmured, his free hand shifting to push some hair out of your face, as any trace of exasperation left your features. 

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