Trying to give you something a little different again, so this is a modern AU with our lovely Sandor. Hope you all enjoy 🐶🧔🏻😍.

Sandor looked at himself in the mirror, how the hell had he allowed himself to be talked into this? Of all the stupid things that he had ever been talked into, this had the be the worst. A blind date.

Admittedly it was Tyrion that had set him up, but still; a blind date?!

Sandor was the toughest of the tough. An ex-serviceman that had been injured on deployment, and now found himself working as a security guard for some big faceless corporation. It wasn't the best, and not what he had planned, but it was better than nothing. And I kept him out in the world rather, than stewing over what ifs, in his apartment. Since he had come back home, the obvious injury to his face had put many women off even going near him, never mind going out on a date. So, this would be the first time that he had been out with a woman in a very long time.

"Sandor, (Y/n) is a great girl, she's really funny, and really clever; she's a veterinary nurse at one of those big places in the city, you'll love her I swear." Tyrion said, as he sat down on the bench next to the big man.

Tyrion had been going on and on about this (Y/n) for weeks. Every chance he got he was expressing the virtues of this young woman, and Sandor was finding hard to believe that anyone could possibly live up to the hype that his little friend had given her.

"What's wrong with er?" Sandor asked for probably the hundredth time. The words coming out a little harsher than he meant them to.

"If she's agreed ta go out on a date with me, then there must be something wrong with er." He said, seeing the look of annoyance on Tyrion's face.

"There is nothing wrong with (Y/n)! She's an old friend of the family, and she is a wonderful girl. Look, she caught her ex-boyfriend cheating on her about a year ago, and she hasn't really been able to trust a guy since. (Y/n) deserves a nice man in her life, one she can trust, one that's not going to hurt her, and it's taken me as long to talk her into this date as it has you. And believe it or not she also said that there must be something wrong with you if you want to go out on a date with her. See, your perfect for one another." Tyrion told him, giving Sandor his best puppy dog eyes.

"Fine." Sandor sighed, as Tyrion gave him a hearty slap on the back.

"You've made the right decision pal; I promise you won't regret it." Tyrion told him, as he grinned like a Cheshire cat.

"Ok, do you know that fancy French restaurant in town call 'Le cœur affamé'?" Tyrion asked, as he started scribbling something down on piece of paper.

"Yeah, I know the one." Sandor huffed as he nodded his head and sighed loudly.

"Well, meet (Y/n) inside at eight o'clock on Saturday; you won't be able to miss her, she will be the most beautiful girl in the room. But just in case, I told her to wear a flower in her hair." Tyrion said, handing Sandor a piece of paper.

"Now this is (Y/n)'s number, if you are running late just call her." Tyrion continued, as he handed his big friend the small scrap of paper.

"I promise you'll love her, Sandor; and I know she'll love you. Just promise me that you'll try to be a little nicer than your usual self." Tyrion chuckled, jumping down from the bench, leaving Sandor to drop his head into his hands.

After a long week of getting himself worked up over the date, Saturday was finally here, and Sandor was stood looking at himself in the mirror. He had dressed neatly, a simple white shirt and black pants, topped off with his usual big black jacket. And despite the fact that he had grown his hair long so that he could cover his scar, just like at work he had pulled it all back into a neat bun that sat at the back of his head. Shuddering as he thought of what was going to happen as soon as she saw him. The big man wishing that he was having to face armed insurgents rather than this unknown woman and a restaurant. Sandor knew that this Le cœur affamé place was fancy, but this was the best he could do. He knew that he would be completely out of his depth. But he took a deep breath. Took one last look in the mirror, brushed his fingers through his beard, and made his way out of his little apartment.

                                                        >>------------------------------<<

One long bus ride later, and Sandor found himself outside the very posh looking French restaurant. Maybe he should just send her a message saying that he was sick, or that for some reason he just couldn't make it. But deep down he knew if he did that, he would never hear the last of it from Tyrion.

Gripping a little tighter to the bunch of flowers in his hand, and straightening himself one last time, he slowly pushed his way into the restaurant.

"Can I help you Monsieur?" The waiter asked in a thick French accent, looking Sandor up and down, obviously not impressed by what he saw.

"Er yeah.......... I have a, er....... reservation under the name of Clegane." Sandor said, feeling uncharacteristically nervous about how the waiter was looking down his nose at him.

The waiter looking at the large reservation book, his finger finally falling on the spot where Sandor's name had been written.

"Ah Qui. The mademoiselle is already here Monsieur. Let me show you to your table." The waiter said, picking up a menu, and escorting him deeper into the restaurant.

As Sandor made is to the table, he realised that whatever Tyrion had told him was not enough. His date was beautiful, and he couldn't believe that he had ever doubted his small friend.

"So, you must be Sandor?" (Y/n) asked, smiling a smile that instantly captured the gruff man's tough heart.

"Er........yeah, I'm Sandor. Um...... these are for you." Sandor coughed, pushing the large bunch of flowers towards her.

(Y/n) couldn't help but chuckle as Sandor seemed to turn the softest shade of pink.

"Sorry, I'm nervous. It's been a while." Sandor said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. This was a new sensation for the old soldier. He had never felt this nervous in his life. He could stay cool and calm under fire. He would be in complete control if he had to throw himself out of a perfectly good aeroplane. But stood here in front of (Y/n), he felt like an anxious, goofy teenager, that wanted to make a good impression on the head cheerleader.

"It's ok Sandor, I'm nervous too. But thank you for the flowers, there are beautiful." (Y/n) said, sniffing at the soft pink blooms.

"You can sit down, I don't bite." She told him with a chuckle, as Sandor sat. His eyes never leaving hers.

"I don't mean ta stare, it's just that ya are much more beautiful than Tyrion made ya outta be." Sandor explained. A small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as (Y/n) began to blush.

"Well, Tyrion didn't tell me how handsome you were, so I guess it's a nice surprise for both of us." (Y/n) replied, looking down nervously at the menu in her hands.

"Do you like French food?" (Y/n) asked, as Sandor looked at the menu, not able to understand most of what was written.

"Oh, er...... definitely, it's my favourite. I just love amphibian legs and garden pests." Sandor replied with a huff, staring at the table next to them, a snooty looking woman picking at a plate of snails. His head snapped back to (Y/n) as she started laughing.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a terrible liar, Sandor? I tell you what, why don't we get out of here, this isn't my kind of place either. I know this great little diner just around the corner, they make the best coffee, and bake their own pecan pies that are to die for." (Y/n) said, standing up from the table, and offering Sandor her hand.

As the two walked arm in arm, Sandor felt comfortable. (Y/n)'s arm seemed to fit his perfectly, and every time she laughed, he felt another little piece of his heart belonged to her.

Sandor opened the door for (Y/n) as they got to the diner, rushing in behind her he escorted her to a table, dramatically taking his handkerchief from his pocket and dusting the seat so she could sit.

"Mi Lady." Sandor said, smiling widely as he offered her his hand to help her sit.

"Why thank you, brave sir knight." (Y/n) giggle, as she curtsied before taking a seat. The rest of the evening becoming a blur, as the two talked and laughed. Both of them never having felt more comfortable with anyone in their life.

As the waitress came around to clean the plates from their table, Sandor reluctantly looked at his watch.

"I didn't realise how late it was, I should get ya home, lass." Sandor said sadly, wishing that the night didn't have to end.

"What? Are you worried I'll turn into a pumpkin if you don't get me home before the stroke of midnight?" (Y/n) asked with a smile, as she rested her head in her hands.

"It's just that I don't want Cinderella missing out on losing er slipper to er Prince Charming." Sandor replied, offering (Y/n) his hand as he led her from the diner.

"Oh, I don't think I'll miss out on losing my slipper. In fact, I think I've already lost it. And I quite like the Prince Charming I'm with right at this moment." (Y/n) said, stopping and placing a soft kiss on Sandor's scared cheek.

"I was wondering if Prince Charming would like to see Cinderella again tomorrow. Say, maybe he could escort her to the movies or something?" (Y/n) asked hopefully, as she held on to Sandor's hands.

"I think Prince Charming would like that very much." Sandor told her, draping his jacket around his Cinderella's shoulders, and leading her into the moonlight. Knowing that tomorrow he would have to say thank you to Tyrion.