Like a moth to a flame, I latched onto Juliet with my good arm. “I—“ I couldn’t speak, my voice failing me when I needed it most. “Sorry. So sorry.” I repeated it, like a parrot still too shocked to do much else. Over and over. Three or four times, sputtering for air between the letters.
This time, I didn't pull away from him. I only squeezed my eyes shut to halt the steady flow of tears and tried to inhale, but it turned into more of a choked gasp. There was a void opening in my chest, a dark, bottomless chasm, one that I knew I would never be able to fill. "So that," I forced out, a tremor interlacing itself between my words, "Is why you can't fix this."
While my world was in the process of crashing down around me, I held onto to Juliet. She was the only thing keeping me grounded. The only tangible thing in existence. “I’m sorry. I didnt— I would have….” I stammered weakly, wanting desperately to comfort her, but unable to find my voice to do so.
I felt like a small child again, hugging my knees to my chest and muffling poorly stifled sobs against my skin. Helpless, just as I'd been that night.
I still remembered the scream that had ripped from my throat, the strangled, desperate cry as I watched my mother sway soundlessly before crumpling to the ground. She had always held herself proudly and straight-backed. That night, for the first time, I'd seen her fall. The light was extinguished from her eyes. And all the way through, I cried.
"Not—Not your fault."
I spent a few minutes in silence, choking and coughing. Working up the strength to voice a single sentence. “You’re so strong.” It came out as a strangled croak, but as long as she heard, it didn’t matter to me. I took the blanket around my shoulders and draped it over Juliet, hoping to transfer some of my warmth since I doubted she’d ever let me close enough to hug her.
My shoulders sagged with the weight of a thousand worries, a million memories, but somehow, the added weight of the blanket seemed to make everything the tiniest fraction easier to bear.
"No," I disagreed firmly, shaking my head. "Not strong. Weak. Cowardly."
“So strong, brave. You can’t see it. It takes guts to cry. To tell.” I cringed at my choppy sentences, but it was all I had to give her. Every ounce on my heart in each colloquial word. A clumsy verbal fumble of desperation.
"No," I protested, fishing for the right words but coming up dry. "No. I ran. I'm still running. I'm crying my eyes out. I'm weak. Don't—Don't try convincing me otherwise. Don't."
“I’m not trying to.” I looked up at the sky, searching for some kind of invisible guidance or hope to guide Juliet through this. But we were fully and truly alone in every sense of the word. “I can only tell you what I see.”
(sorry I left, my dad helped me out with some math)
"Well, then you're blind." The statement came out harsher than I'd intended, sharpened by renewed grief and bitter memories. "I—I'm sorry."
(Np! I’m writing an analysis paper so my replies might be a little spaced out for awhile)
“You’ve done nothing wrong.” I reached out to her tentatively with my wounded arm. “Thank you for… for carrying on her memory despite what my father tried to erase.” I stared at the roses on the cast fondly.
(Dw about it)
I didn’t speak for a long time. When I finally dared to look up at Romeo, the mere sight of his face pained me so much that I had to avert my eyes again. “I—I shouldn’t be here.”
“Let me stay with you just a little bit longer.” I pleaded quietly. “Juliet, I’ve been alone in that room everyday after school, just a few more minutes out here.” I reached out for her arm again, fully expecting her to pull away and abandon me here on the rooftop.
“I—Fine. Just a few more minutes.” I clenched my jaw, inhaling deeply for the first time since I’d arrived on his rooftop. “Why am I even here? I’m just complicating everything more. I shouldn’t—“
“Because we’re dumb teenagers at heart.” I replied softly, calming a bit after Juliet agreed to stay longer.
It wasn’t until a felt a sharp twinge of pain that I realized I’d been digging my nails into the inside of my wrist. I stared down at it, stared at the red, crescent-moon marks, then looked away again. “I guess I’m more dumb than the rest, then.”
“You’re about two steps above me.” I smirked at Juliet. “Have you seen all my cool scars yet?” I brushed back my hair with my hand. “I look super badass.” My voice was quaking slightly, but I gritted my teeth, trying to make it stop.
I turned to look at him, and my grip on my arm immediately tightened, sending sparks of pain up wherever my nails dug into the soft flesh.
“I don’t think either of us is at our peak… badassery,” I sighed, for lack of better word. Why did the sight of him hurt so much?
“You’re going to hurt yourself.” I gently placed my hand on her wrist, trying to pull her hand away from her arm.
“That’s…. That has become the point,” I said quietly, pulling my wrist away from his hands.
“Hurt me instead.” I insisted, offering up my right arm. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself.”
“No!” I drew back from him, horrified. The shock on my face quickly morphed into something strangely akin to fear. “Never ask me to hurt you. Or anyone.”
“Sorry! Sorry…” I felt my ears goes bright red with shame. “Please don’t hurt yourself.” I added quietly, practically begging her.
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
I angled my body away from his, staring over at the dimming horizon, at the faint stars beginning to speckle the sky.
“Juliet, please…” I chewed my lower lip, watching her anxiously. “Let me care about you. Before I go, just for a little while.”