She wanted to die.
He wanted to live.
•••
A hand grabbed onto my wrist, yanking me back just as the train rushed past, before I'd even had time to comprehend whether or not I'd carry out the action. I stumbled back into the person's chest, my hear...
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Romeo seemed to have a way of just... making me smile.
Even in his darkest moments, he was still trying to hold himself together, a struggling smile stretching across his pale blue lips moments after bearing his inner thoughts to me, staring down at our interlinked fingers as he traced undecipherable letters along the back of my hand.
Focused as he carried out the subtle movements, his eyes flicked to mine every so often but for the most part he retained his attention for sketching out words I was too in wonder of to comprehend. His touch ignited mini ripples across my skin, and despite the warmth it made me feel I couldn't eradicate the fresh memory of his teary gaze that I wished I could prevent from ever happening again.
He had stayed quiet after I finished speaking, and I finally understood how powerless Romeo must have felt during the night every time I had revealed more of the thoughts I battled with daily. Seeing someone in pain - especially someone who could take my breath away with a single touch on my hand - and knowing I could do nothing to imminently help was torturous.
The flutters in my stomach as he continued tracing the letters weren't enough to overpower the utter helplessness I felt, especially when it came to helping Romeo accept that other's perceptions of him didn't change who he was. I wished he could know that if they wouldn't take the time to learn about what an incredible person he was, then they didn't deserve a minute of his contemplation. The only opinions that mattered were his own and the people who loved him enough to see past his illness.
From his graffiti to his unmatched love of Romeo and Juliet, he was a multifaceted entity I was grateful to have met, a shooting star that seemed as though it might soar through the darkness forever if time would permit him to.
Despite how we met being memorable as ever, I almost wished that Theo could have introduced us without fate's interference, so that I could have gotten to fall sooner and spend more time with him that wasn't limited.
Watching him discard his positivity in the prior minutes had felt like watching him lose sight of who he was, turning to others opinions instead of sticking to his truths, because even he was starting to believe that people couldn't see the light through his darkness anymore. It was like unlocking another side to Romeo, one that wasn't full of answers or quotes from Shakespeare or a solution to his problems; it was almost as though he forgot how to comfort when it came to himself, not realising he was worthy of the same care he exuded out to others.
My gaze flicked back up to his aristocratic face, catching sight of his defined features that made a lot more sense now than they had at the start of the night. His sunken eyes and almost unhealthily looking jawline were like an eerie omen of the distant future, and the stark paleness of his skin accompanied by traces of pale azure didn't seem as oddly placed given my new knowledge and our surroundings, sat on his bed in his hospital room.
His excessive tiredness and shortness of breath now felt like signs I should have picked up sooner; his tendency to easily bruise and frequent episodes of dizziness were clues I should have picked up on; the slightly cold feel of his hands and compulsion to hold onto his chest, and the way he could never run after me for long; even how we joked about a bad haircut being the reason he kept his hood on – they all felt like obvious indications which I should have realised meant that he was Will.
