Romeo and Rosaline - 40

If I get too angry, my mind goes blank. It’s a perfect match. I fell for that beautiful smile again, so naive. Ah, should I just break it? Fine.

Romeo attempted to jump off the carriage immediately. But there was a hand grabbing onto his shoulder. He couldn’t immediately recognize who it was. He had encountered too many individuals like this in his countless repeated lives.

Cunning, treacherous, and full of desire—a man.

Ah, he was once a prince.

In Romeo’s eyes, devoid of reason, he no longer appeared as a prince. He was an embodiment of the people who had consumed his life with nothing but hatred.

William hurriedly spoke up.

“Kata, it was her choice.”

“Choice?”

Romeo stared at William without blinking.

“Isn’t it evident that your body is changing into an ordinary corpse because you can’t let go of your past lover? It is only right to respect her choice, which came from her concern for you.”

“Respect? I can’t believe such words coming out of your mouth.”

Romeo’s red eyes burned with an intense anger more than ever.

“Have you respected the thousands of souls who burned and died within your spreading greed like a wildfire? Did they truly choose to burn and die? Therefore, should we respect their deaths?”

“….”

“You’re blind and can’t see an inch ahead, yet you’re feigning hypocrisy.”

Romeo growled like a beast with his heart pierced. Now, the one he was blaming was not William. It was himself who couldn’t let go of the woman who had abandoned him.

With realization, the crescent moon hanging alone in the sky came into his view.

“Tiber.”

So, you’re determined to kill me once again. Is it so greedy to face my end with you just once in countless lives?

I am not as noble as you. Being originally a despicable trash, instead of letting you torment me in a pathetic manner, I will surely ruin even your body.

Even if it means we both endure a tormenting flame…

“I’ll willingly burn to death.”

With those words spat out, Romeo leaped off the carriage. Even the thousands of pleading hands craving for a god could not stop him. The fervent praises had swiftly transformed into indifferent condemnation towards the god.

This was also familiar to him, so he didn’t care.

He leaped as if he could grasp the faint moon. The crescent moon in the sky was looking down at his shadow.

* * *

Rosaline looked at her limp arm and wrist, watching the blood flow within her dim vision. And now, feeling the lifeless grip without any sensation, she was once again reminded of her foolishness.

She wanted to be a meaningful presence to someone, anyone.

But to her obedient mother, she was a tragic daughter. To Juliet, her stepsister whom she sacrificed her soul to save, she was at an awkward position. And to Romeo, her first and last lover, she brought only pain and obsession.

She had failed consecutively, and she could have given up. Yet, unable to let go of her lingering attachment, she hoped that Romeo, after becoming a perfect god, would remember her in his death.

As she observed the blood flowing from her wrist, she thought of Romeo. Would he be angry? Even so… he would no longer suffer. No, in truth, she had wanted him to suffer, yearning for a lifetime of agony. She would attribute the vile sentiments solely to him.

“You’ve been so mean to me.”

Now that she was about to die, she felt a tinge of regret. Yet, there was a strange sense of relief and sadness intertwined.

Within her fading consciousness, she heard a rough sound. Slowly blinking her eyes, she looked towards the source of the sound. Someone who was covered in blood approached and held onto her, as if collapsing. They grasped her bleeding wrist and wept, their own body even more soaked in blood.

“Rosaline, Rosaline.”

They desperately tried to stop the bleeding, holding onto her wrist and embracing her, wailing. Though it was Rosaline who was injured, they couldn’t overcome the pain and breathed heavily like a beast.

“Snap out of it, get up….”

As he whispered, a strange thrill ran through her, and someone overlapped in her mind.

“Oh, I’ve seen you in my dream.”

In my dream, he kept chasing after me, intertwining our bodies.

He called my name….

“Tiber.”

Just like this. To wake me up from the dream, to drag me back into the dreadful solitude.

You followed me like a newly hatched duckling.

“You, you’re still the same.”

Red still suits looks good on you. Rosaline couldn’t understand what she was saying. It felt like her consciousness was in chaos.

His scream felt like a song, and she lost consciousness.

* * *

The quietness of a holiday morning was interrupted by a small noise that tickled Rosaline’s ears.

As she opened her eyes on the bed, she lifted her throbbing wrist to examine it. Her wrist was tightly wrapped in torn cloth that looks like it had been hastily torn.

Slowly turning her gaze from the familiar ceiling of the bedroom to the walls, she found herself face to face with the golden head of the man bowing his head.

As if sensing her gaze, a low voice immediately echoed around her.

“Why did you try to die?”

Even to someone who had died and come back to life, his harsh tone was filled with fear and self-loathing. He knew Rosaline had woken up, but he remained motionless on the floor, his gaze fixed as if he were a statue.

“Why did you cling to me, and why would you rather die to get away from me?”

Rosaline didn’t want to escape from him. It was just that she couldn’t bear the feeling of further ruining him. However, Romeo seemed to have no intention of waiting for her answer.

“You won’t be able to leave. Because I won’t let you.”

Still without lifting his head, he reached out his arm and grabbed her calf along with the blanket. The blanket wrinkled like the roots of a plant in his hand. It felt like it was being destroyed, yet it felt like he was hanging on.

“I can’t understand myself either.”

Perhaps due to Rosaline’s dried blood sticking to his hand, the dry blood stained the white blanket like red smoke. Romeo shed tears as he looked at the blood.

“You, the one I can’t let go of.”

As she looked at him, who seemed to be coughing uncontrollably, Rosaline recalled their first encounter.

His arrogant eyes that revealed overt emotions while concealing an unknown past.

She murmured absentmindedly,

“Why is that?”

The Romeo who had died with Juliet had nothing more than a passing crush on her. But this presence, who returned with her, Romeo himself who experienced the weight of centuries, why was he so obsessed with her?

Was it simply because he arrogantly considered himself a lonely god?

No, it wasn’t just that.

He had known her long before.

However, clear memories didn’t come to mind. They were hidden behind a fog, out of reach…

In frustration, she gently held Romeo’s rough hand in hers.

“Why can’t you let go of me?”

He slowly lifted his head, his red, tear-stained eyes meeting hers. Rosalyn forced a smile, somehow relieved to see him in such a mess.

“You really don’t get it, do you, Tiber?”

As if Rosaline were being cruel, Romeo flashed her a whitish smile and began his story.

* * *

Your mother’s health was frail, and she passed away right after giving birth to you.

Your father was a man immersed in alcohol and gambling, burdened only with debts, and he disappeared in a fit of anger, losing his fortune with his wife’s death.

But you were on the lucky side. Your compassionate aunt, nursing her own baby, saved your life and nurtured the tiny bundle of flesh.

Of course, you were barely clinging to life and didn’t thrive. Your family and relatives were all impoverished, the land was parched from drought, and it was a time when children and the elderly were dying.

The faces of everyone were gray, as if covered in a pile of ashes.

But you, without even a name, were different.

Growing up on soaked crumbs, you easily burst into laughter even in dire circumstances. Like a flower blooming in the ashes… Like the first sprout emerging in the harshest winter, you smiled brightly.

Your aunt cherished you amidst her arduous labor and harsh life. She vowed to give you a name that was not as insignificant as hers and lived each day with that determination.

As a young child, you found happiness despite adversity.

But on a day that was no different from the rest, poor and harsh…

You became an offering to the gods.

Your uncle was overjoyed. It was an opportunity to get rid of you, the thorn in his side, and in return, the family of the sacrificed child would receive enough money and provisions to survive for ten years.

Your aunt had no strength to resist her wicked husband and the looming hunger. She could only cry endlessly in her helplessness and guilt.

But you, without a name, could have any name.

For your beloved aunt, you gathered dry flower petals and made a crown, placing it gently on her cheek.

Without being able to utter the words, ‘Please don’t abandon me,’ you were discarded, left to die on a cold altar, only to be reborn.

As the deity of the moon, Tiber.

The rightful owner of all names that refer to the moon.

Tiber. Deities are born from extraordinary coincidences that transcend human desires and universal logic. They are not absolute and sublime beings that existed from the beginning. It is all a bitter illusion. Their powers also vary depending on the time, and when humans forget the existence of the deity, even their strength disappears.

As Tiber, all you could see was darkness enveloped in dim light. Therefore, you couldn’t easily perceive the various aspects of the world with the moon. You could only hear occasional murmurs in the silence and tranquility of the night.

What do you think you did in that darkness?

Did you lament being abandoned by your beloved and then become angry?

No.

You felt lonely.

You feared solitude and darkness to the point where I could feel your trembling.

That’s why you always strained your ears to listen to the sounds of humans. Even though you couldn’t hear them properly, you pitied their various idle chatter, likening it to cries.

As if you had forgotten their pettiness and cruelty.

I decided to speak after observing you for a long time.

I, too, was alone,

I, too, experienced loneliness like you.

I thought you would welcome me because my voice, unlike that of humans, would be clear and distinct. But you were surprised and frightened instead.

Since it was me who was disappointing, I didn’t blame you. I had already seen it. The growing curiosity and tenderness towards humans. The pure, formless, and mournful gaze.

And I desired you.

I hoped that all your gazes and emotions directed towards humans would be directed towards me.

For you, who couldn’t see, I only shared the beautiful and lovely stories created by humans.

Even if they were mere human fabrications, if you believed they existed, they possessed powerful vitality.

As time passed, you listened to my words and gradually let down your guard. In the midst of it, you asked.

“Kata, are there any humans who desire me?”

You thought that the reason you couldn’t see humans well was because they didn’t seek you. I didn’t want to disappoint you, regardless of the reason.

“There are. We were born from the desires of humans.”

“…Why did I become the moon? If I became human again, I wouldn’t be alone like this.”

In that moment, I resented you. I was right beside you, yet you couldn’t love me like you loved the unseen humans, or so I thought.

“If I could capture them with my own eyes and hear their voices clearly…”

You cried with genuine sadness. The countless streams of tears felt like daggers to me. So, I decided to grant your wish. We were the only beings capable of influencing each other.

Because I, who loved you with no expectation of reward, loved you.

Thus, I opened a gap in the sky and showed you the humans.