“I would tell you if I knew.” I chuckled softly, rubbing my temples. “I had sort of been… over her for awhile. A month or two at least. But people didn’t really question why I didn’t have a girlfriend because of her. Her family’s rich so my dad couldn’t care less. It just got everyone off my back for awhile.”
“Right.” I nodded slowly, shivering slightly as a breeze blew through my—well, Romeo’s—blanket. “I’m… sort of the opposite. I had a boyfriend in ninth grade….. uh, didn’t go down well with Angelo.”
“I can only imagine.” I shuddered a little. If Angelo ever found out I was spending time with his daughter, I’d be dead in a ditch before I could even cry out for help. “My family isn’t… terrible towards me all the time.”
“Neither is mine,” I replied, volume dipping drastically. “Angelo isn’t usually… violent.”
“Maria isn’t either.” I reached up to my new scar again, teasing up my hair to feel the raised discolored patch of skin. “Rafael is. But it’s normally just… small wounds. Lots of bruises on my ribs.” I cut off my rambling abruptly, falling silent again.
I swallowed, finally opening my eyes to look forward at him. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry you have to deal with that. And I'm sorry for complaining all the time."
“Complaining?” I looked back at Juliet, caught off guard. “Hell, you’re the only one who actually understands what it’s like. I’ve always been one of those… alone in a room full of people kind of guys. No matter how many friends I make. But you make me feel a little less like garbage, you know that?”
"Me?" I stared at him for a full seconds, my disbelief clear. "I do that? Romeo, I've been emotionally manipulating you for years."
“How were you doing that, by the way? You mentioned it before, but I’m kind of slow.” I smiled weakly at Juliet, summoning all my courage so I could look her in the eyes.
My gaze fell to the rooftop. "Just…. small, belittling comments. All that stuff with Matteo. Last year…. well. We got Andreas to try and take Rosaline's attention off of you. May or may not have had Marina talk to her."
“That was… shitty of you.” I rubbed my injured arm self consciously. “But I can’t really explain it. I just know what I feel.”
"It was shitty. If you haven't noticed yet, I'm a shitty, horrible person." I said this as if I was stating a fact, leaving no room for argument. "So I just… don't understand."
“You had good reason.” I replied gently. “If I had survived what you had, I would be vengeful too. I probably happened to be the easy Montague to target, didn’t I? Rafael calls me a weak link for a reason.”
"You weren't necessarily the easiest….." I trailed off for a moment. "But you were the main target because you're Rafael and Maria's son."
“Hey, Jules?” I laid down right next to her, lying prone to attack on my back. “Can you promise me something?” I looked up at night sky. Black and colorless, only a few stars daring to puncture the smothering blanket of clouds.
"Don't call me that." My eyes followed him as he lay down, completely exposing himself to me. He was purposely making himself vulnerable—why? To show me that he trusted me?
"And that depends on what you want me to promise."
I glanced over at her for a moment before shutting my eyes. “Ill ask you later, now isn’t the time.” I inhaled deeply, enjoying the feeling of the cold air grating against my throat.
"You can't just do that," I protested, lowering myself down so that I was lying next to him, curled up on my side with his blanket wrapped around me. "What is it?"
“I can. It was dumb anyways. Just forget about it.” I opened one eye to see Juliet, who was now very, very close to me. I shut my eyes again, trying to keep the blush off my face.
Slightly delirious from exhaustion by now, I poked his shoulder. "Come on, I just want to know what it was…" The shingles of the roof felt cool and rough against my bare cheek, almost soothing, in a way.
The cold stung, nipping at my skin, but I didn’t say a word about it, afraid she’d make me leave. “Do you think—“ I cut myself off as soon as I felt my voice start to get choked up again. I cleared my throat a couple of times. “Do you think that maybe…” I trailed off as my voice began to shake. I bit down on my lip, hard, taking several deep breaths. “Maybe, Maybe you could learn to… to, you know, draw another flower for me? For after I’m gone?” I sighed as my voice died out on me, my heart constricting painfully from an odd mixture of embarrassment and grief. “See? Dumb right?”
"Oh…." The soft exhalation parted my lips as my eyes widened softly. But I nodded, an odd sort of pain in my chest, as if his words were bullets that had struck my heart. "It's not dumb, Romeo.. It makes sense, actually. And yeah, I could learn." My smile was pained, lined with sorrow. "Something.. blue?"
“Purple.” I correctled, my voice cracking loudly. “Fuck.” I grumbled, rubbing at my eyes. “Sorry.”
"It's fine…" I murmured in response. It was as if the crack in his voice had broken something in me, worn me down further. "Like… violets?"
“Y-Yeah… I like violets.” I forced myself to open my eyes. “When I get to America I’m gonna plant you a rose garden.” I added on quietly.