𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭.

𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

ᴠᴇʀᴏɴᴀ. Fʀɪᴀʀ ʟᴀᴡʀᴇɴᴄᴇ's ᴀᴘᴏᴛʜᴇᴄᴀʀʏ.
ᴇɴᴛᴇʀ ʀᴀᴍᴏɴᴀ, ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜʟᴇss ᴀɴᴅ Fʟᴜsʜᴇᴅ.

[i.] he touched the crucifix around his neck lightly, thanking the heavens for a successful harvest of bearberry and bee balm.
turning to check the time, the old friar thumbed his crucifix again, "where is she?"
his whisper of concern was immediately heard by the skies as a clattering noise roared from below, followed by a series of frantic footsteps.
clutching onto the pillar, the raven-haired girl stumbled onto the balcony, falling onto her back into a bed of dandelions with cheeks painted scarlet.
"ramona, you're late again." the gentle friar smirked at her predictable mischief and signalled for her to get off of his dainty dandelions:
"i know, i know: 'ramona! as the lover of the son of the montagues, you should be more careful! in the blink of an eye, you could be captured by a capulet! ' and then some philosophical and political lecture about how this tension between houses can lead to civil war and-"
he held up his palm, causing her to lose her words, "i apologise profusely, friar lawrence."

he chuckled as her chest rose and fell faster, cheeks growing ever more crimson with embarrassment at her small outburst.
"it is quite alright, young one. i am only concerned for you as i have been bestowed with the responsibility of caring for you, and i need to know that you are safe. now, come here, i have a surprise." he smiled his signature gentle smile, making ramona believe that there may be a god after all.

[ii.] he handed her a bunch of bearberry and bee balm, tied with string, in a small hemp purse, "the bearberry should be crushed and infused in hot water to be activated before you sleep and the bee balm should be ingested in small doses every fortnight to relax the mind."
she stared blankly at the satchel in her hand, taking a small stem and placing it in the security of one of her curls. he shook his head, once again chuckling in return.
"make sure you follow my advice, ramona. a life without sufficient rest can become deathly."
she nodded curtly and turned to leave, holding up her gown while she bounced down the stairs. a soft sigh escaped her mouth, "i wonder what a good night's rest feels like. i'm not even tired anymore."

[iii] passing the small brook near the forest, she analysed her surroundings cautiously before reaching behind a rose bush to obtain the bottle of dolcetto. she pulled out the cork with her perfectly pearled teeth and let the blood river flow down her throat, leaning her back towards the arched trees and throwing the satchel into the water. as soon as the bag made impact with the water, a plethora of ducks raced towards it, pecking the stems and aromatic leaves while she let her head sink into her hands.

she slumped against the oak tree, tears soaking her sleeves.

[iv.] 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝- 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙨𝙝, 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢  𝙥𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨. 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙙𝙪𝙜 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥, 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙜𝙚, 𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣. 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙. 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙. 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙗𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝. 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡, 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙩.

"𝙞 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢."
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🎵- two moons- mbrr

(check the updated description)

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