"Sir? The new maid is here," a voice pulled Sandor out of his thoughts. The man grumbled, indicating that he'd heard. He hadn't wanted any of this. When his brother died, Sandor hadn't expected the family estate to be passed down to him. So, when it had, Sandor locked himself in, never leaving and avoiding everyone. In fact, he remained hidden from the world so long, people began to gossip. They all said Sandor and the entire household was under some kind of spell. A curse.

A moment later, another voice cut through the dark room. "Mr. Clegane?" the voice was soft, but not frightened. Sandor got up. "Close the door," he rasped out and heard it shut quickly. Sandor reveled in the near darkness. No one could see him in the dark. They couldn't see the monster he really was. The last thing he needed right now was to lose yet another maid. "Come over here, girl," he ordered.

Soft, light footsteps made their way to the desk. Sandor turned so he could see you, but you couldn't see the right side of his face. "Have ya ever been a maid before?" You nodded. "Of course. I'm not afraid of a little hard work." Sandor huffed. "Hard work? I doubt ya know the meaning of the words." You crossed your arms over your chest. "Mr. Clegane, I wasn't hired to stand here and be insulted. Did you need me for something or may I get to the work I was hired to do?"

Sandor wanted to laugh. You had spirit. "I need ya to know how sure ya are about this job." You cocked your head to the side in confusion. and Sandor sighed. "I know you've heard the rumors in town about me." You shrugged. "I have. They say you're something of a monster. A hermit who never lets anyone in. Each rumor is more and elaborate. They even say you're cursed," you told him honestly and Sandor scoffed. "But, I've never put much stock in rumors."

In surprise, Sandor turned fully toward you. The only indication that you even noticed the scarred side of his face was the slight jump you gave. Your eyes scanned his face for a brief moment before looking into his eyes again. "Is that all, Mr. Clegane?" Sandor nodded and you scurried from the room.

*time skip*

Like all the new maids, you were the one who ended up drawing the short straw. The butler had assigned you to be Sandor's personal maid, meaning, you brought him meals and anything else he asked for. You were also in charge of making his bed and tidying his room every day. The one room you weren't allowed in was the room next to his. He never told you why, but one day you got curious.

After cleaning Sandor's room, you noticed that the adjoining door was slightly open. Your curiosity got the better of you. You carefully entered the room, making sure to pull the door closed again. You turned around and gasped in shock. All you saw everywhere were broken mirrors. Shards of glass. You knew that Sandor hated his appearance, but you had no idea how much until now. The sight broke your heart.

You turned and slipped out of the room, only to be confronted by an angry-looking Sandor. "M-Mr. Clegane!" The expression "if looks could kill" popped into your mind. If that were true, you'd be dead ten times over. "Get out," he growled. You didn't waste a moment. You darted from the room and down to your own. You leaned against your door and willed your heart to stop pounding.

You stayed in your room for hours, not caring that your chores for the day weren't getting done. You knew if Sandor saw you, you'd be fired or, if the rumors were to be believed, worse. Unfortunately, you wouldn't have a choice.

"Y/N, the master wants you. Now." You got up on shaking legs and made your way to the door. You opened it to see the butler glaring down at you. "I don't know what you did, but the master is demanding your presence right now." You gulped and nodded. You knew you were in for it. "He says to bring the first aid kit." Your eyes widened. Just what was the man planning on doing to you?

Your heart felt like it was going to explode in your chest as you approached Sandor's study. In your whole life, you'd never felt as much fear as you did now. Every possible scenario flashed through your mind as you walked. Would he hurt you? Yell at you? Kill you? You shook your head at your over-active imagination. With a shaky hand, you reached up and knocked on the study door.

"Get in here, Y/N," your employer's voice called out in its usual raspy tone. You slowly opened the door. Sandor was sitting in the chair behind the desk, staring out the window. "Y-Y-Y," you stuttered before clearing your throat and trying again, "You sent for me, Mr. Clegane?"

"Over here." You walked over to the desk in the unusually brightly lit room. When you got closer to him, you saw that he had a cloth wrapped around his hand. It was soaked in blood. Setting the first aid kit down on the desk, you gently took his hand in yours and began to unwrap it.

Sandor watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his bloodied fist. "W-What did you do?" you asked him, briefly looking up into his eyes. He was almost taken back by the kindness in them. He was certain you would look at him in fear for the rest of your time working there after what had happened. He watched, unflinching, when you grabbed tweezers and began plucking pieces of glass from his injuries.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, "I didn't mean to pry. I was just curious." Sandor grunted and then hissed when you poured the alcohol on it. He swore out loud and tried to jerk his hand away. "Stop being such a big baby," you grumbled, tightening your hold on his hand. "This is your fault," he muttered, but you heard him anyway. "My fault? Your temper is not my fault, Mr. Clegane."

Sandor opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. It was true. His temper was not your fault. It had been that way his whole life, long before you showed up. In fact, everything you'd done thus far, until that morning, had helped to soothe the savage beast that was Sandor Clegane's temper.

You finished you chore and stood up. "If that's all, I'll leave now." Sandor's brows furrowed. "If you haven't decided to fire me, then I have to help prepare dinner." Sandor nodded. "Fine. Set an extra place." With a nod of acknowledgment, you gathered up the first aid supplies and left the room. You shuffled from the room, leaving Sandor to groan.

No one ever thought Sandor would fall in love. And no one believed that anyone would fall in love with him. He was one for two, now. He was in love. Admitting it out loud wasn't an option, but he knew. You made him feel things that no one had ever made him feel before.

You had refused to be afraid of him, even during his shows of temper and you didn't hesitate to tell him when he was wrong. It didn't matter that he was your employer. If you thought he was wrong, you told him so. He appreciated it, to be honest. It helped keep him on track. However, he knew there was no way you could love him. Not unless he put in some effort.

You brought dinner into the large dining room, where Sandor sat alone. You set served his dinner and started to return to the kitchen. "Stay." You stopped and stared at him. "I beg your pardon?" He looked up at you. "Stay...please." Confused, you glanced at the second place setting. "Was that for me?" you asked and he nodded. "Why?" Sandor groaned. "Would ya please just do it?" You felt a tug at your heartstrings at his awkwardness, so you did as he asked.

For several minutes, the only sounds in the room were the sounds of silverware hitting dishes. "Why, Mr. Clegane?" you asked again, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He looked at you. "I wanted ta thank ya for everythin' you've done." You shrugged. "it's my job." He shook his head. "No it isn't. Your job is ta clean up around here. Not ta deal with my temper and clean up my hands. It's not your job ta listen ta me yell about nothin' or ta keep me from gettin' inta fights."

You couldn't respond at first. Then, you surprised Sandor by saying, "It's what you do for people you care about." Sandor blinked in shock. You actually cared about him. Or you said you did. "I'm going to go back to the kitchen. Thank you for allowing me to have dinner with you." With that, you stood and left the room quickly. You couldn't believe how you just embarrassed yourself. You'd admitted to caring for your employer as more than an employee.

And you did. Over the months you had been there, you had grown close to the gruff, grouchy man. While you had gone about your daily chores, you saw the different sides of Sandor. There was a side of him that was truly a caring and compassionate man and it made you fall for him. And after that, you began to see that his tough exterior was hiding pain. It just made you love him more. Of course, he could never love you. You were the help.

You entered the kitchen, not knowing that Sandor had followed you. "Ya care about me?" You jumped and yelped. You turned to see him towering over you. "Do ya?" You nodded. "Yes. How could I not?" Sandor suddenly had your face in his hands and you felt your face flush. "Why?" You met his gaze and sighed. "I'm not exactly the lovable type, girl." You snorted.

"You aren't exactly unlovable, either. You may look scary and act all tough, but underneath, you are a kindhearted man. You have hidden passions that no one knows about. That's why." Without warning, Sandor's lips descended on yours. You did a little happy dance in your head for the fact that Sandor was a man of action. Sandor worried when you didn't immediately kiss back and began to pull away.

You realized he was pulling back and your brain finally kicked in. Your arm shot out to wrap around his neck to keep him close. Sandor sighed into the kiss and moved his hands down to your hips. With you there in his arms, Sandor felt complete. He felt like he didn't have to hide anymore. And, just like that, the spell was broken.    

(This was supposed to be posted days ago -_- so, ya'll are getting 2 stories today)