Romeo and Rosaline - 16

The source of my agony lies in the fact that I can’t fully despise you. It would have been easier if I could simply hate you. But having spent a lifetime together, having tried to understand you throughout my life, I knew the turmoil within your twisted heart.

The satisfaction that arises from belittling someone while leaving yourself feeling emptier than ever.

“You’ve done the best you can with your life. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

No matter how much she received the protection of the family, Rosaline knew that her mother must have suffered in silence since the day she was born. In order to affirm herself amidst the secret condemnations, even if it meant denying her own daughter. But ultimately, it was an act of attacking herself.

“Stop blaming yourself, Mother.”

Rosaline slowly lowered the hand she held and gently stroked her mother’s trembling chin, at a loss for words. Her mother’s bewildered eyes, which had been restless, suddenly sharpened again.

“Aren’t you and I the same? I asked about your guilt, but I don’t understand why you don’t blame yourself.”

Her mother brushed off her daughter’s hand. Rosaline silently responded as the falling hand was comforted.

Because I also get hurt by your hurtful words.

The reason why she couldn’t speak these words aloud was because she knew that her mother wouldn’t care about her pain anyway.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to be submissive. She now felt that her affection for her mother had hit rock bottom.

“If you don’t know, then forget it. Your lingering feelings are not my fault.”

Each time she spoke honestly, a chilling thrill ran through her throat. Her mother, with a stubborn expression, laughed coldly, her mouth twitching.

“Act all refined just because you learned a little. You know nothing, Rosaline. You…”

“Enough.”

She didn’t want to hear anymore. Rosaline wiped away the meaningless tears harshly.

“Please stop. Even if I’ve sinned against God, I haven’t done anything shameful to the young lady, Capulet, or you, Mother.”

“Lower your voice! It won’t work. I should tell Lady, no, Lord Capulet what kind of woman you are.”

“Go ahead. No one will believe me anyway.”

Rosaline rebelled, her voice muffled but firm.

“Is there anyone who doesn’t know that Mother hates me? Is there anyone who doesn’t know that you’re determined to drive me away? Even if Mother speaks ill of me, if I deny it, that’s the end of it. Who else can I trust?”

She smirked while looking at her mother, who was turning red with anger.

“You don’t even know who I associate with in the first place.”

“… Arrogant girl. A bitch who doesn’t even know grace.”

As Rosaline passed by her mother, sharp words stuck to her back.

“I don’t know that I tried to protect you as my only daughter, and that I went to find your lover….”

Rosaline wiped her face and stepped out of the main house of the mansion. She should immediately go and find Juliet to confirm, but she couldn’t gather her thoughts for that. The faster she walked, the words she hurled at her mother returned with a sharp sense of guilt and regret. No, she didn’t want to think such thoughts.

Why are these tears coming so freely these days?

Without knowing where she was going, she arrived at her room on foot. Worried that her mother might follow, she securely locked the door. Her vision blurred with tears, and she couldn’t get used to the darkness. While simply locking the door, her hand slipped several times.

Pathetically hopeless.

“Ugh, hmmp.”

Leaning her forehead against the door, Rosaline covered her mouth with both hands, desperately trying to suppress her sobs. But she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

She mustn’t cry. Every time tears burst forth, she lost control of her emotions, so she had endured it all her life. Bursting into tears would only hurt herself.

Swallow this confusion, and do what you must, Rosaline. Go to the monastery as Mother and Juliet wished, and spend your life in the assigned temple, occasionally finding gratitude even in small moments of happiness…

But for that to happen, Romeo must disappear.

In exchange for my heart.

“Rosaline.”

As hot and heavy breath was expelled, a strong arm wrapped around her waist. She was so surprised that tears welled up. When she turned around with her eyes wide open, instead of moonlight, darkness engulfed her. No, not darkness, but Romeo Monteagudo’s lips pressed against hers.

Her thigh brushed against his strong arm, and her back hit the closed door. As he pressed his body against hers, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Open up.”

Even though she didn’t intentionally open her mouth, his thick tongue, pushed its way in, startling her. He held her chin and turned it forcefully, allowing himself to go even deeper. His sharp nose pressed against her cheek, and his tongue invaded, matching the tilt of her head.

The sensation of being suffocated was overwhelming. When Rosaline tapped his shoulder, the hand that had been resting on her chin grabbed her wrist and wrapped around her shoulder. With the obstacle that was pushing him away gone, he forcefully chewed on her tongue and lips, stealing her breath. Their bodies intertwined, their tongues entwined, obstructing their breathing.

Clear anger. As he realized this, his lips trembled, inching closer.

“You asked for time to think, and I waited patiently with your pretty face.”

Still forehead-to-forehead, his eyes, more fierce than piercing, stared at her without a flicker.

“What plans did you make with me while getting involved with other men?”

His eyes trembled, he couldn’t control his anger at my words. He smiled, revealing his white teeth, and whispered while pressing his lips against my wet cheek.

“Tybalt’s outer skin has become a resemblance to your lovely self, hasn’t it? That son of a bitch wouldn’t dare to be audacious enough to interfere with someone who’s going to become a priest.”

A damp and hot, yet eerie sensation pressed against the skin. Then, he raised his hand and pressed his thumb firmly against her lower lip.

“If I leave it alone, I don’t know what topic to bring up. What should I ask to make a good impression?”

His eyes, observing her lips moistened by saliva, blurred with a mix of anger and desire.

“Was it not enough to provoke it from below? Did you make a fuss like a spoiled child?”

Romeo seemed to strongly desire for Rosaline to submit by saying ‘yes.’ The moment his glaring eyes, which had instilled fear and anger, became blurred was fleeting.

“Did you cry?”

He revealed it with a smile. It was as if he was crying.

“Do you dislike me that much?”

His hand, unable to let go of Rosaline, was pitiful. His black eyes shook violently with a mixture of self-loathing and anger. But the strange thing was that it wasn’t Romeo who was terrifying, but Rosaline herself, who wasn’t afraid.

“Do you dislike me so much that you want to let go, want to get away from me, and went to Capulet pretending to agree?”

Although his voice was harsh, like he could tear her apart at a moment’s notice, there was a crushing desperation in his shaking eyes, and fear in his equally shaking fingertips.

Rosaline somehow seemed to understand his heart.

In truth, you were also being dishonest, just like how I couldn’t be honest without expressions. Perhaps you might be similar to me.

You fear me, just like I fear Juliet’s rejection, and how unable to overcome Mother’s disapproval.

“Answer me, Rosaline.”

Instead of answering, she raised her hand. Romeo’s black eyes filled with curiosity. He watched her gesture while barely suppressing the impulse to recoil.

Slowly, Rosaline’s hand traveled up his arm and shoulder. She could feel the immense body yielding to her gentle touch. An unknown thrill surged within Rosaline’s chest.

Finally, when her hand touched his cheek, his expression crumbled through the disheveled golden strands. Rosaline carefully parted her lips, swallowing a heavy breath.

“Have you been…lonely for a long time?”

His incomprehensible anger, and discontentment. She quietly asked, feeling as if all these things resembled herself. He didn’t answer directly, but his trembling dark pupils were enough of a response. Rosaline smiled faintly and spoke again.

“Why do you desire me so much?”

“…If you’re asking for the reason.”

He half-lowered his eyes and laughed, as though surprised. It was a sharp and chilling smile.

“It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten.”

It wasn’t the expected response, but Rosaline let out a laugh that didn’t quite fit the situation. She couldn’t sustain the laughter for long. Romeo’s impatient gaze was dangerous. If she delayed any longer, she felt like she would burn alone. Rosaline raised her chin slightly and spoke.

“If you don’t mind having half my heart, take it.”

It seemed okay, like being alone or inexperienced, just like me.

“Instead…”

She wiped Romeo’s eye corner with her thumb and kissed his upper lip, tasting it. But before he could reciprocate, she pulled back slightly and grasped his chest. It was where his heart resided.

“Give me yours too.”

This is how you avoid being discarded.

They could have each other. It wasn’t about one person holding the leash, but if I have something to hold onto, I won’t be discarded.

Between their fluctuating breaths, a brief moment of exploration continued. Like Rosaline, whose dress had ridden up, revealing her bare thigh, his vest was unbuttoned, and his previously neat hair, which seemed to have been messed up, fell loosely on his forehead.

Our messy appearance was like a rusty life, that fleeting thought crossed my mind.

“I will gladly give it, but―”

He spoke like he was submerged.

“I would crumble with a single gesture from you, but would you still take me?”

He sank down completely, asking in a self-deprecating manner as if he had experienced this kind of thing dozens of times. As if he knew that Rosaline wouldn’t respond. As if he didn’t even expect an answer.

“Romeo, I…”

Without waiting for Rosaline’s response, Romeo swallowed his words. The gaping hole that had only spewed out jumbled words now opened, mixing with the breath that sustained life. Rosaline wrapped her arms around his neck, casting aside her hesitant thoughts.

While surrendering herself to the realm of impulse.