Shakespeare one shots

Another letter

Another letter, and it turned into a bit more. I love writing these.

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Horatio, my love-

Did I ever call you that? I hope I did... Shit, all the words in the world at my feet, and I can't say the three that I really need to. Irony achieved, I guess. Well: I love you, my Horatio.

I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you

Heh. Take that, Laertes. (I never said it to him and he never thought I'd say it to you.)

Speaking of Laertes: did I win? I was never as good as him but practicing with you would improve anyone, so I might have. Though, that question is probably redundant. If I win then you won't read this. If I win, I'm stealing you away and we're going to live out the rest of our days as Wittenberg students and then Wittenberg professors. If I win, I'll tell you in person that I return the feelings you're not all that great at hiding.

Look at me with all these "if"s. You're reading this, so I've lost. I'm probably dead. Shit.

Are you taking care of yourself? Don't lie to me, you said you'd always tell me the truth. Are you eating? Sleeping? You're a workaholic, Horatio, especially when you're trying really hard to ignore something. I know you know it, and you know I know you know. Don't overwork yourself just because there's a ghost in the corner of every room you enter. Don't be like me.

Do you have someone to take care of you like you took care of me? Damn, you'd better. Marce and Bernie and Frankie, I bet. Osric? Tell him I'm sorry for making fun of his hat. I didn't mean it.

Oh, you too. Tell yourself I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry for everything. You deserve the world and I went and took that away. I have no justification for myself, I'm not that naïve. But you hear me? I'm fucking sorry. I know I did a million things wrong and I apologize for all of it. I'm so, so sorry I hurt you.

I suppose it's pointless to tell you not to cry. I was always the cryer of the two of us, but you need to take that spot for a little bit. Cry. Please cry. Let the emotion out. DO NOT BOTTLE IT UP. Don't you dare sit beside my grave all day. Eat, sleep, talk to people, and when you're ready, go back to Wittenberg. Get that goddamn degree. I know you can.

You're going to change the world, Horatio. Our story is one thing but you're fucking amazing and I know you'll do something wonderful. I believe in you with all my heart. Speaks toward my lack of religion that you were the closest I ever had to a deity. You're an angel, I swear.

(Yes, I know it was you singing to me every night. I'm an actor, I can feign sleep.)

It wasn't your fault. You've never done me any wrong. You're amazing and I need you to take care of yourself. I'm so sorry. I love you.

Hamlet

~~~

Fortinbras set the envelope, carefully resealed, next to a small bundle of flowers. He stood for a few minutes with his head down, less in mourning and more wondering what this man was like when he wasn't sobbing the dead prince's name, or laying cold and motionless with hemlock stems on his bedside table.

The new king turned and left, quiet as he could so as not to disturb the four men remaining. Francisco and Bernardo with their helmets in their hands, in cheap black suits that they knew the dead man wouldn't begrudge them for (they were all poor together). Osric, smiling faintly through soft tears, standing sentinel next to a kneeling Marcellus.

Despite the hesitance they all felt, they vacated the grave at dusk out of respect for the dead. Respect for the whisper on the wind telling them all to go inside, have a hot drink, it's freezing out here and I'd rather you remember me with a song than a silly rock with my name on it.

At around midnight, Marcellus poured himself another mug of cider and brought it back to his post. He reveled in the quiet, the easy familiarity of it all. He watched his breath wisp away over the ramparts, observed the steam from his cup drift slowly up to the starry heavens.

The letter in his head said, Do you have someone to take care of you like you took care of me?

He turned to the spot beside him where the two once stood. "I tried, your highness."

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I shed some tears over a heartbreaking Sarumi fic and I needed to project my pain. Suffer with me, faeries, and if you ever want to cry, over anything at all, DO NOT BOTTLE IT UP.