#fromverona

“Juliet . . .”

Tybalt hovered in the doorway to his cousin’s room, indecision hanging uneasily on him like an ill-fitted coat. The young man was typically a pillar of surety and determination, one who glared at the world around him as though daring it to move first. Now there was something warring within his eyes, twisting & jagged emotions which competed for dominance upon his features. There was something he needed to know ------ Rumors were flying after the Capulets’ last soiree, rumors he dared not, no, REFUSED TO believe. He had to hear it denied from the source, needed to hear her say it wasn’t true.

Paris’ page called for the WATCH. To the Capulet’s tomb! Romeo and Paris fight! He had still been awake at the inn he briefly resided in writing a letter to Ophelia to tell her of his travels in Verona. How he wished to be home soon. The sunny skies brought no warmth after she was gone. The city was haunted by her and he could not wait to return to Denmark.

Romeo ? He held no love for the Montague, but Juliet had. Were she alive would never forgive Horatio if he let Paris kill Romeo. 

Cutting through the cemetery he made it to the tomb before the officers. It was open. Paris lay motionless on the path covered in crimson. Romeo had won. Had he come to steal Juliet her resting place? 

He slipped through the door quietly so as not to alert the Montague to his presence lest he end up in Paris’ state. It was proven immediately that there was no call for silence. Romeo was as still as the man he had slain, laying beside his love on the stone slab. But Juliet...

The moonlight kissed her pale skin so that she appeared to be glowing in her white dress as she sat up. Horatio froze. He must have fallen asleep writing his letter, dreaming her back to life. He could say everything he never had the chance to. A goodbye. At the glint of a raised dagger the dream flashed to a nightmare. 

“No, don’t - !”

Horatio lunged to catch her wrist. Her skin was still chilled, but he could feel her pulse under his thumb. Alive alive alive. 

“Juliet!” A name he never thought he would say again, “Juliet...”

ALL THE VERSES: college verse!

He’d been finishing up a phone call with the pretty receptionist at DENMARK CO. after wrapping up his meeting. Halfway through the circling door he recognized the young woman breezing through the other side.

“Juliet!” Horatio tried to balance his cell on his shoulder while simultaneously waving and catching the door. It all came across as quite fumbling, but he pressed the circular glass back around to emerge on her side while pocketing his cell.

@fromverona