pride can stand,
a thousand trials,
the strong will never fall.
but watching stars without you,
my soul cried.
heaving heart,
is full of pain.
Baz Lurhmann was a cinematic genius. i'd decided this once i'd watched the greatest movie ever made—Romeo & Juliet—for the fifth time.
this would be my sixth.
although Eve had left several hours ago i was watching the movie in my room on my laptop, laying on my stomach in my bed and eating gumdrops and Pringles. my phone was face up beside me, generously on vibrate.
but soft! what light through yonder window breaks? it is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
i sighed happily, smiling at the screen and saying the words as Leonardo Di Caprio spoke them.
"arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief, that thou, her maid, art far—"
there was a knock on my window.
i clicked the space bar, groaning and turning to see who it was.
Anders.
"hallå," he said loudly, smiling.
i opened the window and closed it behind me with a grimace as the smell of cigarette smoke hugged the entirety of my existence. he'd been out here for a while.
"why are you here?" i crossed my arms to protect myself from the soft winds blowing east. i was wearing a sweater without a t-shirt underneath. my necklace grew cold by the second, chilling my collarbones.
after taking a drag of his cigarette, Anders leaned forward to kiss me.
i moved out of the way, leaning against the railing of my fire escape.
"come on, Klara. it was a joke," he persisted, caressing my face with the back of his hand. a chill spread from my cheek to my toes as i slowly moved his hand away. "you told everyone i was manic," i said sternly, daring to look him in the eyes.
he broke my gaze, looking at the skyline and taking another drag from his cigarette. the tips of his ears were pink, along with the end of his nose.
he'd surely been here for a while.
"you can't blame me for something i did when i was drunk. come on, Klara, you've gotta be kidding me—"
"no, Anders. you've got to be kidding me. how many times are we going to fight over this? you're a fucking lightweight and an angry drunk! i've told you countless times that i don't want to be with you if you continue to treat me like this, yet you won't let me leave," i interrupted.
"because i love you, Klara! more than your fucking father, by the way."
i pushed him, shouting, "you take that back, you fucking bastard! i hate you!"
"well i hate you," he said calmly.
we both stood there in silence. Anders smoking to calm his nerves and i, inhaling his secondhand smoke.
we knew we weren't good for each other but i was all he had and he kept me grounded. if it wasn't for him i'd be dead.
i sat against the window and took his hand in mine, tracing the whitewashed scars on his knuckles from all the times he'd split them whilst fighting. that's all he is, i reminded myself. a broken boy who doesn't know what he's fighting for.
i looked up at Anders and he looked away as i kissed his scars. "do you want to stay?" i asked, holding his hand in mine.
he put out his cigarette harshly against my wall, sniffing and shaking his head. "can't. i'll call you later." he kissed me lovingly before pulling away, staring at my face.
"what?" i self-consciously avoided his gaze, looking at the rings on his fingers.
he shook his head. "nothing. i've just never seen anyone as beautiful as you."
"stop," i said, pushing him. this time it was jokingly.
Anders laughed. "i'm serious—you're like a cookie. no one around here has real freckles. they're real, right?" he licked his finger and dragged it against my cheek.
i laughed too, scrunching my nose. "your hands are cold."
"faen. fuck. i forgot how cold it is out here. you're going to get sick, go back inside," he said, a small smile on his face.
"i don't want you to leave. i've missed you when you're sober." i looked up at him, taking his cold fingers and attempting to raise their temperature. i exhaled slowly, warm air blowing against his skin.
sighing, Anders mumbled, "i have to go. stay warm, cookie."
i tugged on his jacket and kissed his mouth. "don't forget to call."
there was a knock on my front door. his lips were separated as if he was ready to say something.
"who's that?" he asked, staring into my room with furrowed eyebrows.
i shrugged. "no one important. i'm not expecting company." it couldn't be 21. 9pm. not so soon. not when Anders was content and i was content we would continue to be content on the phone tonight.
"maybe you should get it," he told me as the knocking continued, louder.
i kissed him once more before sliding into my room and going to the front door. i looked through the peephole and it was Hampus indeed.
sighing, i returned to my room and took his ring off my nightstand. Anders looked concerned. "it's Hampus. he left his ring," i informed him.
he was surprisingly calm as he lit another cigarette. "alright. i'll see you later, i love you."
"i love you. be safe." i looked at him for a long time before closing my window and locking it.
