GoT One-Shots Book 3!

Ballerina (Sandor Clegane x fem!ballerina reader) Modern AU

There were times when Sandor really hated his job. Now was one of those times. Joffrey had insisted on taking Sansa to the ballet for her birthday. While the young boy himself hated the ballet, his fiance loved it and he was trying to keep her happy for the moment. Unfortunately, that meant Sandor had to tag along.

While the man could appreciate the physicality it took to dance ballet, he didn't like going. The music hurt his head after a while and he always felt out of place. Why would a monster like him be around all the beautiful people that attended and danced in the ballet? Still, he had no choice and he knew it. He had no idea that this time would be different.

Sandor let his eyes travel to the stage and his gaze caught your movements. You came out with the rest of the ensemble, a smile on your face as you leapt and twirled and danced with more grace than even the star ballerina. She could have done every move perfectly and Sandor still wouldn't have noticed. There was something about the way you moved and smiled. There was a joy from inside you that was practically bursting forth for the entire theater to see. If anyone had asked him who he thought the star of the show was, he would have said you.

You were positively mesmerizing. Sandor could not pry his eyes off you, despite the fact that he was technically working. For the first time, he was grateful to have such wealthy employers. He was able to see you up close. You had a beautiful face to match the exuberance that radiated from you. It was clear that dance was your passion and nothing was going to stop you.

What normally would have felt like hours passed in no time at all for Sandor as he watched you. Before he knew it, the ballet was over and everyone was leaving. Unfortunately, that didn't mean he could go home. Joffrey had managed to secure passes so Sansa could meet the prima ballerina. That meant Sandor had to tag along back stage and keep an eye on the little brat.

Backstage, Sandor froze. You were there, right in front of him. You had nearly run into him in your hurry. "Oh, excuse me!" you cried with a smile. Sandor didn't have a chance to respond before someone called, "Y/N! Come on!" You smiled at him again as you skirted passed. "I hope you enjoyed the show!" you called back to him as you were dragged away, presumably to change out of your costume.

*short time skip*

Sandor breathed a sigh of relief as he left work that evening. He had the next day off so he decided to go to the pub. He had been feeling strange since the night before when he came face-to-face with you, the ballerina who had had him on the edge of his seat. He hadn't been able to get you out of his head which was odd for him. Considering the fact that he would probably never see you again, that is. You obviously ran in different circles.

As it happened, Sandor was wrong. He would most definitely see you again. In fact, the moment he stepped into the pub, his gaze instantly fell on you. You were seated at the bar, nursing a drink with a soft smile on your face. People kept coming up to you, speaking for a minute, and then leaving. Sandor thought about turning around and leaving, but then you turned your eyes to him and he stopped. Why was he running? He hadn't done anything wrong. So he wandered over to the bar and ordered a drink.

You were still looking at him curiously. "You were at the show last night," you finally stated and Sandor nodded. You smiled. "I thought I recognized you. You came in with that spoiled rich kid and the girl. She's sweet. Him, not so much." Then, you looked embarrassed. "Sorry! I speak before I think sometimes." Sandor let out a laugh.

"Don't apologize. You're right. He's a spoiled prick. The girl's alright, but deserves better." You hummed before taking another sip of your drink. Sandor gestured to the beverage. "Thought you dancers didn't drink?" You chuckled and shrugged. "Not typically, but we've just finished our show and have a few days before we start practicing for the next. Besides, that was my very last show. I'm celebrating the start of something new."

"Last show? Why would you quit? You're good," Sandor said, his voice getting softer. He wasn't used to paying compliments or people accepting them from him. You rolled your eyes a little, albeit playfully. "Thank you. But I'm not quitting dancing. Not really. It's just...I have an opportunity to do something better. I saved up enough money to buy my own studio space where I can teach kids who want to dance but can't afford the fees most dance schools demand. I want to share my love of dance with them."

Sandor couldn't reply for a moment. He'd met few selfless people in his life, but here you were, deep in your own career, giving up your dream to help others find theirs. "You're something else," Sandor muttered, but you heard him anyway. "I will take that as a compliment...Person whose name I still don't know," you said with a slight giggle.

"Sandor," he told you. You stuck your hand out for him to shake. "Nice to meet you, Sandor. I'm Y/N, although I'm pretty sure you knew that already seeing as my friend decided to scream it across the theater last night." You rubbed the back of your neck with your free hand. You were utterly adorable and dorky and Sandor had no clue how to handle it. He felt himself growing uncomfortable suddenly, something you seemed to notice.

"Hey, did I do or say something? I don't want you to be uncomfortable." He shook his head. It wasn't you. It was the entire situation. "Good, because you seem like a nice guy and I'd like to get to know you. I could use a few more honest friends." Sandor's brows furrowed. You thought the two of you might become friends. That wasn't something Sandor heard.

"You sure? You wanna be friends with the likes of me?" You arched an eyebrow. "And what's wrong with you?" Sandor found it funny that you sounded so defensive over him. "Look at me, woman. 'M not exactly the type of company you keep." You shrugged. "Your point? I think you seem pretty down to earth. Those are the kinds of people I like to be friends with. As for you scars, who freakin' cares?! They're just scars, okay?"

Sandor wasn't sure how to answer, so he simply nodded again, making you smile. "Good. Now how about I buy you another drink and we can talk some more? The rest of the company is having a good time in their own way and I'd like to have a good time with my new friend." At Sandor's hum of approval, you did what you promised. You bought him a drink and the two of you sat talking until the bar closed. You parted ways, but not before you wrapped your arms around Sandor in a hug and gave him your number, telling him to call any time, day or night. For the first time in a long time, Sandor went to bed with a smile on his face.