Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones nor its characters. They belong to HBO, GRRM, and whoever else has the rights.

Note: Written for the sansan_got comm's weekly drabble prompt. Feedback appreciated!

red on white

It isn't nerves that makes him snap at anyone that bothers to speak to him, or prompts him to down more wine in one sitting than he has for months. He only wishes Stannis Baratheon would hurry the fuck up and reach King's Landing.

He's seeing red (red on white, red on white linens, red on white skin) and aching to kill someone.

The sweetest thing there is.

(Not sweeter than a pretty, talking bird trapped shaking in her little cage. Not sweeter than blue eyes that do not fear him like they used to. Not sweeter than his little bird's body near his.)

The Arbor red isn't doing a damn thing to calm him down.

Stannis is nearing, they say. He'll arrive within days, they say. Well bugger that.

Sandor wants Stannis and all his bloody men there now. He wants them marching up to be cut down. The wine isn't helping, and the little bird is out of reach. He's seeing red (red on white) and needs to kill something.

(Bugger the seven, Stannis isn't the 'king' he wants to hack down.)

All he can see is red on white. (Red on white linens, red on white skin.)