Shakespeare one shots

Bodes of breaking

So...
Shit happens.
Based on true events. Again.

I got into a bit of a spat with the best friend. She won't read this, probably, and I think that's why I'm posting it. I wouldn't have the balls to do it otherwise.

Fuck you, dearg sí. I mean it.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Contrary to what they spent an enormous amount of effort establishing as popular belief, Hamlet and Laertes used to be inseparable.

Laertes would get an idea, Hamlet would first back it up and then polish it. Laertes would express an opinion, Hamlet would take it as gospel. Laertes had a worldview, Hamlet adopted it.

... So maybe it was a bit more specific than inseparable. Hamlet was inseparable from Laertes.

And for the first few years, that was okay. Hamlet had Ophelia and Ros and Guil and most of all Laertes, and for those years he thought he might be able to keep it up forever. He would make plans; or rather, Laertes would make plans and Hamlet would worm his way into them, same difference; about the future, and all the impossible things he wanted could happen because it was LaertesandHamlet, the way it had always been, and they could manage anything.

Eventually, Hamlet had willingly carved himself an existence in the spot next to and slightly below Laertes. Never above, but he chose not to acknowledge that part.

Life worked. Hamlet did everything Laertes did, even though he was slightly to vastly worse at it all, and he allowed himself to feel good about it despite the fact that Laertes always did better. Horatio joined the friend group, bringing their number to six, and if Hamlet tilted his head and squinted a little his life almost looked perfect.

But all good things must come to an end, he reminded himself through tears, his phone held white-knuckled in his trembling hand.

I have learned the answers to questions that you would never even dare to ask. I know you always tow the line, especially if it earns you an extra smile and a gold star.

Hamlet read through the text several times, his throat tightening around the air moving to his lungs. How had the conversation even gotten here?

His phone buzzed again.

This is a never ending cycle of hell for both of us, and it is just as much your own creation as it is mine. It is equal punishment for me as it is for you, only these conversations are nothing but a result of the part that you contribute. You realize that, yes?

Hamlet forced his shaking fingers into action, developing what would probably be the most angry thing he'd ever say to Laertes.

Fuck you, your highness. I'm going to go talk to someone who doesn't make me feel inferior every other conversation. My constitution will melt the second I see you in person, of course. At least I can relish my brief period of actual emotional health before I'm thrown back into the cycle. Use your precious logic, if you're in such pain. You wouldn't keep shooting yourself in the foot once you realized it hurt.

In a detached way, Hamlet thought it had always been coming to this. There were things bubbling up in his chest now that had been held down for far too long. He quickly exited his messages with Laertes and clicked on Horatio's contact.

Ratio, I finally did it, I said something

I opened my fucking mouth and threw a rock back

This is huge

Context?

Laertes and I are fighting and I sent him this