Sansa wished that she had realized Joffrey was a jerk weeks ago. They had met at one of her parent’s parties, he was the son of her father’s old friend, and it had seemed perfect.
While her parents hadn’t been exactly pleased when she and Joffrey began dating, his parents had been ecstatic, and that pleased Sansa so much that she sometimes ignored Joffrey’s more…. troubling personality traits.
But he had hit her yesterday and now she couldn’t stand to look at him.
“Where is our fucking waiter?” he spat, spinning his head around.
“We just sat down, give him some time,” Sansa said although she immediately regretted it as his cruel eyes targeted her.
“What did you say -”
“Hello, my name is Podrick and I’ll be your server this evening,” the waiter said, a small, kind smile on his face.
Joffrey turned his attentions towards the poor boy, “The lady and I will have two whiskey lemonades -”
Sansa spoke without thinking, “Actually, I’d rather just have a water.”
Joffrey snarled and looked like he would have hit her or kicked her if they weren’t in a public place. Sansa made herself smile although she was frightened.
She had to break up with him.
Podrick looked between the two of them with worry, “I’ll bring both,” he said, “And I’ll let the two of you figure out what you want to eat while I do that.”
Sansa watched the boy leave and felt hopeless. Joffrey sniffed, “While he does that, I’m going to the bathroom. Don’t even bother looking at the menu, I already know what you’re going to eat.”
Once he left the table, Sansa deliberately looked at the menu with a vicious sort of delight.
“Are you all right, miss?”
“What?” Sansa looked up to find the waiter (Podrick?) staring at her with concern in his dark eyes.
“I-I,” he stuttered, “I wanted to ma-make sure you were all right.”
She hoped he wouldn’t stutter in front of Joffrey, he’d make fun of their waiter right to his face, “I’m fine,” she lied.
He didn’t look convinced but Sansa smiled, “I can handle it.” Once she got home, she would. It would end.
“At least let me put laxatives in his food,” Podrick pleaded.
Sansa laughed outright, in a way she hadn’t in months of dating Joffrey, “Maybe, but I promise I’ll be fine. I’m breaking up with him today.” she said, feeling as though she had awoken from a nightmare.
“You should do it here, in public,” the waiter said, “I’ve seen it happen here before. We can even call the police if he gets rowdy.”
Sansa laughed, imagining Joffrey on the ground in handcuffs.
“What are you laughing about?” Joffrey demanded, sitting down in his seat, glaring at them with suspicion.
“Nothing of importance,” Sansa lied. She was becoming quite good at lying, it seemed.
“Well, get us two steaks well-done, waiter,” Joffrey waved his hand.
Podrick looked towards Sansa, “Is that what you want?” he asked quietly.
She felt brave all of a sudden, “No it’s not. I want a chicken salad and I want to break up with you,” she directed the last part at Joffrey, who was turning a shade of red.
After the hullabaloo, where both Joffrey’s mother and the police were called (it was not a pretty sight), Podrick sat next to Sansa in the chair where Joffrey had sat earlier that evening but said nothing.
“Thanks,” she said, feeling as though that wasn’t quite enough, “although I promised myself I’d break up with him today, I don’t know if I would have been able to do it by myself.”
“He’s a scary guy, I don’t think anyone would have blamed you for being too frightened,” Podrick replied, smiling at Sansa kindly.
She liked the way he smiled, she felt safe, “I think we should become friends,” she said.
“I think we might already be friends.”