Chapter Text
“May the Seven grant a cramp in the behind of the person who came up with these ropes of misery!”
Sansa Stark stood on the front porch of her quaint little home, tangled amidst a ball of Christmas lights. Her determination for there to be at least one house on their street with a festive ambience had driven Sansa to impulsively buy the box of old Christmas lights at a garage sale the day before.
She did not, however, take into account what a task simply untangling the lights would be, let alone actually hang them up around her house. A shout of frustration escaped her, echoing through the quietness of the snowy street.
Her neighbours didn’t seem to be the festive types. Her street seemed to lack the cheer she had always seen in her favourite Christmas movies. Loras and Renly, who lived in a beautiful home on Sansa’s left, might have been the only other house in the neighbourhood to go all out for the Christmas season, had they not decided to go on an all-inclusive cruise for the holidays.
She recalled how the two men came by to tell her of their trip and how they asked her to keep an eye on the property while they were gone. Sansa had of course agreed and the couple promised to bring her a souvenir as thanks.
To her right lived The Man.
Sansa knew nothing of him except that he must be quite shy or not like people very much since she only noticed him leaving or arriving every so often. That and the fact that he was huge.
She was of the North, she had known big manly men all her life. Yet none of them came close to the big and tough-looking manliness of The Man. Which is why she started calling him that in her head, sometimes Mr Man.
Mr Man seemed to have left early that morning, so Sansa was free to decorate outside to her heart’s content. She had started by giving each plastic flamingo in her garden a scarf before arranging them to serve as the reindeer to her budget Santa and his sleigh. She then set to work making a wreath for her front door and brought out the doormat with the snowman on it.
All that was left were the blasted lights.
She had resolved to put them up that morning and by the Crone, she was going to. It would be her first Christmas by herself and she would stop at nothing to make it perfect.
An hour later the lights were in neat rows on the ground, ready for hanging. She had bought a hammer and hooks to secure the cable along her roofline and a brand-new extension cord to power the lights. Yet in all her shopping endeavours she somehow forgot a key tool for the operation.
A ladder.
And so, Sansa Stark found herself balancing on a milk crate stacked on a chair, hanging Christmas lights in the fading light of the early winter evening.
She had finished hanging the lights on the left side of her porch and everything was going swimmingly. That was until The Man’s enormous pickup truck pulled into the driveway beside her.
Sansa knew how ridiculous she must’ve looked, dressed warmly for the snow, a string of lights running up her body, performing the balancing act of the century.
Just act natural, she thought to herself. This is all very normal, you’re not doing anything wrong.
She tried shifting her position to look as calm and collected as she was trying to seem when the crate shifted along with her. Sansa steadied herself and tried to shift the crate back to its original position with her when her balancing tower gave in and she flew to the ground with a dull thud.
Pain shot through her wrist, back and bottom as she landed, the wind getting knocked out of her. While trying to regain her composure, Sansa faintly registered a “Fuck!” and the sound of footsteps rushing towards her. Sansa shut her eyes and brought her hands to her face, trying to hide the embarrassment.
“What in the seven fucking hells were you thinking?! Are you alright?”
He was standing over her, she could sense his colossal presence looming over her. Peering through her gloved fingers, she finally got a good look at the man she’d only been catching glimpses of these last couple of months.
He was wearing jeans and a simple hoodie, and the smell of grease and gasoline radiated from his clothes. His long, black hair had been tied away from his face, and what a face it was. A heavy brow along with a strong nose and jawline made for a striking face. More striking, though, were the scars that ran across the left side of his face.
Sansa snapped her eyes away from the scars when she realized that she had been staring. Her gaze landed on the most intense pair of grey eyes she had ever seen. Those eyes were staring at her questioningly and the realization of the situation she was in came rushing in.
Going into damage control mode, Sansa started sitting up in order to explain herself.
“I am so sorry! Yes, I’m okay I just— Ow!”
She was interrupted as agony took hold of her wrist as she tried to push herself off the ground. In an instant The Man was kneeling next to her, taking said wrist into his warm hands. He examined it with a delicacy surprising for a man his size, gently moving it from left to right, front to back.
Sansa could have died of embarrassment, yet she made no move to pull away. She observed him silently, knowing she should thank him for his concern, assure him she’ll be okay, but it was as though her vocal cords had turned to stone.
It was he who broke the silence in the end, his deep voice causing Sansa to shiver.
“I don’t think it’s broken. Probably just sprained. Best to go to the emergency room anyway, just to be sure.”
He rose and offered his hand to her uninjured one. Dumbfoundedly, she took it before he pulled her to her feet like it was nothing. Standing face to face—or rather chest to face—with him, Sansa finally found her voice. Taking a step back, she started assuring him.
“Oh no, it’s fine! I’ll be fine! It’s fine, really.”
She laughed awkwardly, looking everywhere except at him.
“It’s really fine. Plus, I only have a little section left. Wanna get it done before it’s too dark, ya know?”
She made to walk towards her fallen tower when he stepped in front of her, arms folded across his chest.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
Sansa halted, her embarrassment quickly giving way to indignation.
“Look, I apologize for giving you cause to think I fell to my death or something, but how and where I hang up my Christmas lights hardly have anything to do with you. I thank you for your concern, but it is hardly needed.”
She finished by giving him her most professional smile. The Man simply huffed, turned, and left without another word, his heavy boots crunching in the snow.
Well okay, then, Sansa thought to herself as she walked over to the fallen crate and chair, be like that.
The tower had just been assembled once more when the crunching snow could be heard again. Sansa turned to find Mr Man walking over to her with purpose, a ladder clutched beneath his arm.
She had no choice but to step aside as he lifted away the chair before putting the ladder in its place. He wasted no time in climbing up the ladder before asking her to hand him the hammer and hooks.
For the second time that day, Sansa was struck silent.
His look said Well? What are you waiting for? And so Sansa found herself obeying before stepping back and giving him instructions on how far apart to hammer in the hooks.
The remainder of the lights went up without hassle.
Sansa watched as The Man silently climbed down, folded the ladder and was halfway across Sansa’s yard when she called out after him.
“Wait!!”
He came to a standstill as Sansa jogged after him. Not even bothering to turn around, he simply looked at her from over his shoulder. He didn’t make to speak, so Sansa continued.
“Uhm. I just wanted to say thank you. And I, uh, was wondering if I could make you a hot chocolate as thanks?”
She would’ve wrung her hands behind her back if her wrist didn’t protest piercingly.
Mr Man turned around to face her before nodding mutely. She flashed him her brightest smile.
“Okay perfect! My name is Sansa, by the way.”
She extended her uninjured hand towards him, and he engulfed it in his own.
“Sandor.”