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If love be rough with you, be rough with love; 
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.

You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, 
And soar with them above a common bound.

-Mercutio, on love.

***

JULES CAPULET

"Why'd you bring me here?" I glance up in the dim, battered streetlights. The walk home is almost in complete darkness, the lamps sputter on and off again, the old kind. The twisted hunks of metal that rise like a giant's fingers above the concrete shantytown, running on older electric generators that go out every few minutes.

MONTY'S MEDICINES. The sign reads, the S on "Monty's" hanging upside-down above the battered storefront. Windows covered in bars.

Ro shoves past me, typing something into the old-box keypad. The store rattles open with a sigh, the doors shoving with the strong, hissing scent of gasoline. "You said you didn't want to go home. So, I brought you here instead. Why, you scared?"

I steel myself, following into the shop's smoky interior. The inside seems better-kept than out. All the tech in here is newer, the bubbling cauldrons using prime druggist tech.

"You call yourself an apothecary?" I snort, shuffling through booklets of "alternative medicines". Some of the herbs are legal, some in a gray zone, and others are flat-out venomous. "Next, you'll be calling yourself a witch."

Ro raises an eyebrow at me. I'll call myself whatever I damn-well please.

"Stop that. I'm not used to having you inside my head yet."

"Sorry." Ro shrugs. "I thought you were eating up all that propaganda Lawrence was feeding you. How our connection will pave the path to peace or some bullshit like that."

"You didn't need to install the implant."

Ro sighs, setting her trench-coat, riddled with old burns and slashes, on a hook beside the door. "You didn't need to stand in front of my gun. But you still did, you silly, silly Capulet."

"Better silly than murderous, Montague."

"I do what I have to." Ro takes my gray cloak from me, tossing it in a heap in the corner. She hands me a faded floral suit, red-eyed birds in flight along the hems. "Go change in the bathroom. I'll wait."

Taken aback by her semblance of hospitality, I change out of my dusty travel clothes and into the suit. It fits a little tight against my shoulders, but it's softer. Smells like herbal tea and mothballs. I exit the bathroom, met by Ro's dark eyes. Scanning me. "That was my mother's. You're delicately built, like her. Sorry if it she was a bit shorter than you. Here, I'll wash your clothes and bring them back to you."

"That's alright. Keep them. I have plenty at home." Her face shifts, something I can't read. Have I offended her? Wait, since when is Jules Capulet concerned with offending anybody? I try and push past the misstep as Ro hands me a cup of tea with lemon, resting in a chipped mug that looks half a century old. "Everything in your home looks old, except for your tech. Your family's sitting on millions of credits, aren't they?"

Ro shrugs, pressing her lips against the burning glass. "What I make, I give to grandma Viviana. She, in turn, gives it to everyone she sees. Kids on the street. Prostitutes. The sick and the abused."

"You aren't concerned any of those people are stealing from you?"

Ro sets the glass down on the table with a clink. "If they're driven to steal in southern New Verona, then their lives must be pretty shit in the first place. Happy people don't often become thieves. Plus, I won't be using all my credits before I die, not that I plan on living long anyways." She disappears into the bathroom for a second. When she reemerges, she's dressed in a robe that trails along the floor. "Here, go through this door. You can sleep in my room." She pauses, raising a dark brow. "Will your parents miss you?"

I shake my head. Ro pauses, unsure how to proceed.

Eventually, she unlocks the bedroom door, shuffling to the kitchen area with a few pillows and a sheet. I catch her shoulder before she exits. "Wait," I chew on my lower lip, nervous. "Do you want to join me?"

She stops a moment, smirks, then turns away with her pillow and sheets. "Good night, Jules Capulet."

***

Hey, it's Ro Montague here. Don't forget to vote and comment... or else.

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