romeo.

❛ call me a romantic. for the right price. ❜ a half — no, quarter roll of his eyes. MONTAGUE. eight letters, tremendous gravity. almost out of sheer instinct, his gaze travels to the skyline, and seeks out his namesake’s looming monument. smile falters, confidence wanes: you have NEVER been made of stone, rich boy. ❛ see that skyscraper over there? my dad owns that and everything in the surrounding area. i couldn’t hide if i tried. ❜ briskly, he shakes his head, in a vain attempt to dispel the gloom which hounded him. ❛ just get all close to me. i’ll give that guy the touch her and die look. ❜

as he points it out, her gaze follows. an eyebrow quirks at the revelation, but yet she ceases to think anything particular of it. until her gaze sweeps over his features – an expression that appears nearly weary; it leaves her with some consideration. her initial thought is – that kind of life, must have lots of pressure. in her sympathy, her smile wanes, and she shifts just slightly closer. ❛ – yeah? is he still lookin’? ❜ and then, ❛ maybe you should get down on one knee and start reciting some poetry, romeo. ❜
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