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The manor's balcony is beautiful. Sometimes it´s the only place Gabriella, soon to be Lady Capulet, can hear her thoughts. When she sees him it's hard to forget this is a political marriage. Lord Capulet is rich, handsome, and well spoken- yet Nathaniel, a Montague, is the one she loves. This is a treaty of peace, a handshake between the two clans. Swinging her legs over the railing, she sits on the edge. In two days she´ll be married, her relationship forgotten. Wind kisses Gabriella’s face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she forces a smile. One day he’ll be blurry- defined to no one except his wife, but tonight his memory is her own.
What will she tell Rayna, her sister in everything but blood? It’s not long before she’ll be married off. Girls are considered women before they realise it themselves, you wake up and it’s gone, a dandelion lost to the wind. She won’t warn her. No, all she can do is set a good example. Lord Capulet is bound to be nervous too, in time they’ll fall in love- like the marriages before theirs and the marriages before that. Rayna will smile, as she smiles, and if she’s unhappy, she’ll deal with it like the rest of the clan. How can she hate arranged marriages, when she chose to be a Montague?
Gabriella scoots closer to the edge, cruel is a word reserved for normal people, for boys who have no knowledge of ‘adult’ things like love. They say love is natural, effortless, but in reality love’s a child who only wants what they can’t have.
The balcony door slides open, “Mom’s looking for you.”
Slowly, Gabriella climbs down from the railing, when she does, her fingers comb through Rayna’s long hair.
“Stop that,” Rayna grumbles, “I’m not a baby.”
“Don’t be in a rush to grow up,” Gabriella says, scratching her scalp anyway.
She sways side to side, a habit Rayna’s had since they met. “Is that how you feel?”
“Hm?”
“Do you love him?”
Gabriella blinks at her, “Not yet.”
“But you have to marry him?”
“Yes,” Her hand stills, she tries to think of something comforting, but nothing comes to mind.
Rolling her shoulders back, Rayna shrugs Gabriella’s hand away, “I don’t understand.”
Gabriella bites her tongue to stop herself from saying, ‘me neither.’
***
Angry lines paint the sky as the sun dips below the horizon. Nathaniel drapes an arm over his shoulder, “Nervous?”
“She’s pretty enough,” Capulet shrugs.
His face turns hard, “Is that all she is to you?
“I’ve known her for a week, Nathan.” Nathaniel removes his arm, lying on his back. Sand gets stuck in his curls, Nathaniel’s sharp eyes contrast with his dark skin and soft lips. Lord Capulet lays beside him, wondering what he said. “Don’t tell me she's your type.”
When he doesn’t answer, Capulet turns to look at him. “We’ll still be friends, after the wedding, I mean.”
“I just wish you’d respect her more.”
Lord Capulet rolls his eyes, “Noted.”
“I’m serious Rolen.”
He smiles at the name, his real name not some silly title. “Such a gentleman.”
“Rolen,” Nathaniel groans, furrowing his brows in distaste.
Shuffling around, he uses Nathaniel’s torso as a pillow, the boy softens, fond of his affectionate side. A gust of wind blows past them, he shivers, leaning closer to Nathaniel.
“So we’re getting married, who cares?” Rolen bites his lip, not caring how childish he sounds. “It’s not like we love each other.”
“You’ll be expected to…”
“I’m repaying the Capulets, nothing more nothing less.”
Nathaniel presses his lips into a line, “Loving her is repaying them.”
“They can’t control everything.”
“If they heard you say that-”
He sits up, suddenly angry, “What, gonna report me?”
Lord Capulet misses the way Nathaniel grabs his shoulder, “You have to be careful.”
He scowls, pushing himself up, his eyes start to sting. “I thought you’d understand.”
“I do,” Nathaniel protests.
“See you at the wedding,” Capulet wants him to hurt as he spits, “Nathaniel.”
***
Betrayal under the stars is dirty. Nathaniel grabs her waist as they deepen the kiss. She wants to forget this is the last time, wants to be the first to meet his eyes, wants to keep him up at night- but he pulls away and she remembers it’s not possible. They sit beside each other. Earlier that evening Nathaniel snuck into her backyard, seeing him through the window, Gabriella met him behind the bushes.
He reaches for her hand, “It’ll be alright,” Gabriella squeezes it, “he’s a good man.”
“Evreyone says that.”
“You might like him.”
“Do you want me to?” She asks, holding his hand tighter.
“It’d be easier.”
“He’s your best friend, of course you think that.”
Gabriella closes in, stopping right in front of his lips; he makes a weak attempt of holding her gaze before his eyes drop. “You’re not being fair.”
“Love never is,” she whispers.
Head tilting back, his face goes blank. You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?
“Promise,” her heart skips a beat as Nathaniel looks up, “you won’t forget me.”
He takes Gabriella’s finger in his, she hums, satisfied in her disappointment.
***
Eyes follow Gabriella to the stage, Rayna’s included. Nathaniel gives her a nod. Vows roll off her tongue in perfect motion, Capulet takes his time with his, pausing enough to make her suspicious. The priest finishes his long speech, the audience looks at them with newfound anticipation. When they kiss she imagines Nathaniel’s face…
***
Strong perfume fills the air between them. How can Nathaniel expect him to love her? This is a mistake, if he knew that sooner then maybe…
***
What if he fled to the countryside? No one would hunt him down and Nathaniel he’d finally move on. No, they’d look for him. Can’t let the others get any funny ideas, can they?
Gun shots.
Rolen and Gabriella break apart, a hand grabs his, fingers cut from steel drag him away. It takes him a moment to realize they're running. Where is she? “Damnit Rolen-”
His hand hurts. There’s fear in Rolen’s eyes but confidence in his grip. Blood stains the mess of white, a girl is dead-
“There’s no time!”
“But she-”
“Forget it.”
They leave the hall to enter a new one.
***
Whiplash is the only way she knows how to describe it. Silence, pretty decorations, waiting- her eyes rove over a knocked over table, someone she doesn’t know is trapped under it, an adult yells for her help. She moves on.
“Nathaniel! Rayna!”
Her throat is sore, older men draw their guns- pointing them at each other. In the chaos it’s hard to tell who belongs to which side. Heels are left on the floor, her throat hurts from yelling, guests crowd the doors. Squeezing through she runs into the hallway, the church seems never ending as she rounds the left corner. Her heart goes still- two shots right next to her. Receding footsteps. She peeks her head around the piler-
***
Rolen shoves him into an empty broom closet and closes the door behind them. Light comes through the bottom of the door, there's just enough to make out Nathaniel’s silhouette. He fumbles for the handle, letting out a hiss when Rolen catches it.
“Get off me.”
“Quiet,” Rolen snaps back.
Now’s not the time for ‘heroic’ gestures.
This time crackly, “I have too.”
That’s when he kisses him.
***
Rayna smiled ear to ear as they skipped down mainstreet. The sweet smell of pastries filled the air irresistibly, croissants, tarts, and the like. There was a silent agreement between the two of them to stop at the shop on the way back. A cute sign signaled the entrance to the dress shop, purse in hand she leads her sister into the shop. Nothing felt right for the occasion, frills and pearls, layers and puffy sleeves, the lady titters as she tries on a plain white dress. Rayna gives her a thumbs up, Gabriella lingers on her reflection a moment more before deciding. When Rayna follows her lead in picking something unassuming, a sky colored dress made of silk, she can’t help but feel proud.
“Are you sure?” Gabriella asked.
“What? Do I not look pretty?”
“No of course not it’s just-“
Rayna bursted out laughing, “Only kidding.”
Now- baby blue soaked in blood, eyes wide open, head lulling to one side. Death doesn’t hit her like it should. The feeling settles in the pit of her stomach, a weight she can’t live without. Gabriella continues walking, the sound of gun shots no longer matter, only the sensation of her own breathing.
***
Tenative lips clash with hungry ones. Nathaniel wants to push him away equally as much as he wants to never let go. There was a time when this was all he needed. But now? When he finally chose to move on? When his pain comes from losing Gabriella and not Rolen? Rolen latches onto Nathaniel, their bodies press into each other, he forgets to breathe.
Love resurfaces like a city after a flood.
In the end, it’s Rolen who breaks them apart. His voice is barely audible, Nathaniel wonders what he’s scared of. “I don’t..”
“Why’re you so…” Nathaniel leans in closer, “Beautiful?”
Soft footsteps, Rolen freezes, Nathaniel finds it silly, a pause. The door knob twists from the outside, before he can recognize the danger the door swings open.
“Rayna’s dead,” Gabriella says dumbly.
He walks out of the closet, not looking back when Rolen puts his hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry.” And that’s all he can say, isn’t it?
More gunshots, they sound faraway, then a figure- his body moves before he realizes it. The last thing he remebers is the guilt.
***
He hits the ground. Gabriella is muttering but it can’t be meant for him. Someone rushes in- shooting the man who shot his everything. Nails dig into his shoulders, “Get ahold of yourself,” she hisses.
“..in shock…”
More voices. Gabriella standing by his side with eyes that don’t suit her. So much blood- someones shaking his shoulder- arguing-
“We don’t know,” Gabriella says, stronger than him.
“It must’ve been the Montagues.”
“Oh please why would we kill our own people?”
“You’re clan’s always been jealous-”
A hand guides away from the crowd, she sits beside him, “I’m a capulet now,” she murmurs.
But that doesn’t make sense. Capulets aren’t family, they’re glorified gang members this was just a-
“It’s not about politics or anything,” waving her hand dissuasively, Gabriella adds, “I have my own reasons.”
Rolen rests his head on her shoulder, they’re in it now. The gangs will blame each other until the end of time. “I can’t love you.”
She ignores him and he understands why.
Why did you go and die? You were supposed to be the reasonable one. A hand hovers over his back, her comforting him?
Rolen swallows, “I’m okay, really.”
Lips buzz as she moves to play with his hair. He gets the feeling she’s done this before.
“Nathaniel had the messiest hair,” fingers snag on dead hair, she tugs on it a bit before moving on. Oh. “Never let me comb it.”
“Nathen.”
“What?”
“It’s his name.”
The light flickers, once twice, then normal again. An arm settles over his shoulders, nothing like Nathen’s. “Nathen then.”
He shrugs Gabriella off, she doesn’t look hurt. Rolen expects her to say something. Instead, she fiddles with her hands, tracing the lines with her nail.
“You liked him then?” Rolen says.
A half smile, “I should ask you the same thing.”
“You get it then.”
“I do.”
Eyes lock onto him, he deserves it, her fidgeting stills, and all he can do is sit there. “I-“
“He’s dead, Capulet.”
Tears start to fill his eyes, she falters, a deer caught in headlights. Rolen rubs his eyes, and the wetness is gone.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Don’t be a child,” but Gabriella cracks under her words. He sees the scene for what it is- a child soothing another. Arms wrap around her, she doesn’t cry or sink into the hug, simply letting herself be held.
She pulls back, silence hangs over them. It’s all so stupid.