forum In Fair Verona // Modern Romeo and Juliet // Private RP - CLOSED

Started February 05, 2019 by @blue_topaz

tune

ROMEO: Finish off the job?

JULIET: I’ll explain later. Just… climb up to your roof. We should be unseen there.

ROMEO: Alright.

I scrolled into my settings, sharing my location with Juliet so she could find me. I then grabbed two of my blankets, shoving them onto the roof before clambering after them, hissing in pain when I bumped my cast against the window frame.

I got there as fast I could—the location of the Montague estate had been drilled into my head since God knows when. It took a while to get past the front gate without detection, but I’d been trained in the art of avoiding security cameras, so I was scaling the wall and emerging on the roof after a few minutes.

I expected her to be awhile. So I wrapped a blanket around myself and let the sunset bath me in it’s bloody red light. My phone sat beside me in case Juliet needed me, but otherwise I felt undisturbed, looking out over the city. My fallen kingdom, the king of the ruins.

“Romeo?” I called softly, lifting my head. My eyes widened the tiniest fraction—there he was, sitting with a blanket around his shoulders, washed in the light of the dying sun. I came forward hesitantly, careful to keep my balance.

I jumped a little at the sound of her voice. “Hey.” I turned around to face Juliet. “I brought you a blanket too. It’s sort of cold out her. “Came off my bed, but I promise that stain is from when I spilled cologne on it a few days ago.” I smiled sheepishly.

I was too drained to return the smile, so I merely nodded and wrapped it around my shoulders, hoping he couldn’t see my shiver. “Hi.”

“I’m… I’m glad you came.” I tried and failed to suppress my infamous lovesick expression from returning. We were next to each other on a rooftop watching the sunset. This was fantasy unreal for me. I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around it, let alone calm down my spastic heart.

I’m not.

I turned my head away, looking out over the side of the rooftop and into the sizeable drop below. A part of me wondered if jumping now would be enough to kill me….. it would be ironic, would it not? A Capulet killing herself on Montague property?

After a lengthy pause, I returned my eyes, so cold and lifeless, to his, if only for a second. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything you’re willing to tell me.” I stared at Juliet. “You can come sit down. Next to me, I mean. I don’t bite.” My smile faltered as soon as I saw the dead look in her eyes.

I shook my hair in front of my face and bowed my head, shifting ever so slightly closer to him, to his warmth. I’m not willing to tell you anything.

But I didn’t say that out loud. I only cleared my throat, eyes still fixed to my hands, and allowed my lips to part to let a small sentence through.
“Our parents used to be… well, not friends. Partners. Did you know that?”

“Are you serious? What?” I stared at her in disbelief. “Is that some kind of joke?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Nope." I tugged the blanked tighter around my visibly shivering body, still avoiding Romeo's eyes. "You don't remember?" Almost against my will—and better judgement—I found myself scooting almost imperceptibly closer to him.

“To be fair I’ve had several major concussions since we were eight. My memory isn’t… the greatest thing.” I reached over to the right side of my head, tracing the scar from the rolling pin.

"Right…." I murmured, adamantly refusing to look at him. "Well, either way, my mom and yours apparently knew each other from, like, middle school. Our dads met through them, long before we were born."

I laid down, flat on my back, watching the light drain from the sky. None of this made sense to me. It seemed too good to have gone south. “What happened?” I asked quietly.

I wrapped one hand securely around my wrist, my nails digging into my skin. "Your parents," I said slowly, "Were hired for a………. job."

I let my head loll to the side so I could watch Juliet while she spoke. “Is this… job what started it all?”

"Yeah." Suddenly, I felt sick, as if I was going to throw up despite the fact that there was nothing my stomach could throw up, considering the fact that I hadn't eaten all day. I pressed my hand flat against my stomach, and when I spoke again, my voice wobbled dangerously. "There was—There was a lot of money involved. Part of the reason why you're so… rich. So your parents invited mine to dinner, and I came too. I don't—I don't know where you were. After, on the way back to your house—–"

I swallowed hard, reaching up to touch my cheeks, which were wet all of a sudden. "Your dad—He held me down and forced me to watch as—as—"

(is this all okay? anything you want me to change/add?)

(It’s perfect! Romeo is about to freak out when she tells what happened. Might fall off the roof? We’ll see…)

I sat up so fast that my head spun. “Juliet, no. You don’t have to tell me. You don’t. It’s okay.” I pleaded, knowing I wasn’t going to be able to handle what I heard next. I tentatively brought my hand up to her cheek, wiping away a few tears with my thumb.

(lol)

I jerked away from him, wiping away yet more tears with the back of my hand almost angrily, despite the fact that I didn't have a spark of anger left. "She—Your mother shot mine. Through the head." Brushing away the strands of hair that had stuck to my wet cheeks with a shaking hand, I tapped the spot in the centre of my forehead. "I remember the blood. And I remember—My dad shouted something. There was someone else holding him back. Your dad—He pushed me forward so that I could see the bullet wound—"

My voice was bitter, suddenly drenched with a million different emotions. "All for a couple million Euros."

My world shattered. Immediately drowning, suffocating, as the unshakable faith I had in my family faltered. Every ounce of prestige I held for my parents feel away at her words. That was all it took. A feather landing on rotted support beam of my trust. What I knew. What I believed in. My friends. My family. Everything collapsing in on itself.

I don’t remember how to breath. Someone had their hands wrapped around my lungs and I couldn’t breath. The color drained from my skin, leaving me shaking like a leaf, the sickening white color lit up by the sunset, bathing me in red. The harsh tang of blood eroded tastebuds off my tongue. I curled in on myself, hiding my head in my knees. Struggling and gasping. Wheezing and… crying. Choking silently for air that refused to enter my lungs.

I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my face in them, droplets of water tracking paths down my pallid, sunken cheeks, somehow burning like the fire I no longer had at my disposal. It was as if I was a tiny teacup being held down as I tried to hold an ocean of bitter, salted tears, a sea of memories, unfathomable bodies of water, of sorrow dragging me beneath the surface. I was drowning, being pulled deeper and deeper with each ragged breath I took, with each choked sob.