Auburn hair floating angelically about her, Sansa peered down at Joffrey, calm as could be. "You...you can't do this! I'm the KING! I'll have your head!" Joffrey cried out, clutching the fresh wound in his abdomen, blood still seeping out at an alarming rate. Wincing in pain, he struggled to breathe normally after his outburst.
"A king?" Sansa replied, narrowing her eyes into a deathly stare. The icy voice and glare made even the mighty king Joffrey fall silent- of course, his current condition didn't allow him much room for small talk anyway.
"You're the farthest thing from a king. Kings are fierce, brave leaders who make necessary sacrifices in order to save their people. Pray tell, Your Grace, was there any justifiable reason to murder my father?" she continued, the dagger in her hand still dripping with fresh blood.
"Why...should my father...be the only one taken from me?" Joffrey replied, feeling another surge of blood coming up his throat. Coughing it up and onto the floor, he glanced up, his face wrought with pain- physical and emotional.
"COWARD!" In a split second, Sansa had knelt down on the floor next to Joffrey, the blade shaking in her hand as she brought it to his throat. "Shut up. Just SHUT UP! You couldn't face the pain of losing a loved one, so you decided to ruin my life as well?" Her breathing was increasing rapidly due to the adrenaline rush upon hearing Joffrey's confession, whereas his was slowing down, slower...and slower...
"Ah, my lady is more intelligent...than she seems..." Tears flowed down Joffrey's face before he was finished with this sentence. Shocked, Sansa pulled away and loosened her grip on the dagger. "What...are you doing? Why are you crying?"
"Truthfully, I did...I did want to hate you and shatter your life...but I couldn't, my dear lady. You were...special..." Too much blood had been spilled, too much talking had used up the last bit of his remaining energy. His eyes fluttered a bit, then everything went silent.
For what seemed like a lifetime, Sansa couldn't think straight, and yet her skin turned to ice as she slowly came to the realization of what she'd just done. Joffrey wasn't breathing anymore. His death was by her hand...and oddly enough, she couldn't bring herself to care, even though he had seemed to undertake an apologetic tone towards her in his last words. Revenge had been exacted, and nothing could make Sansa feel more proud at that moment. "Farewell, my prince." Sansa gave one final glance back to Joffrey before leaping out of the window, running as fast as possible to nowhere in particular, a wicked smile corrupting her otherwise beautiful face.