Cheeky ➻ Louis Partridge

11 | Quotations Of A Great Poet

Y/N

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I WONDER if Shakespeare liked to write.

Sure, he was great at it, but his plays started to get increasingly more drab and dull as the years went by. He went from writing about love, magic,and fairies, to writing about death and historic kings.

Maybe he just lost the feeling of happiness.

Of course, I'd never know, but it was always interesting to think about. Yawning, I closed my eyes and took in the darkness of the theater. I had been here for what felt like hours, and my phone was about to die.

"AYYYYYYYYYY!" A voice suddenly belched out into the air, "HELLO!"

I almost had a heart attack in shock.

Sitting up, I noticed that the door had swung open, and the tall figure of a boy was silhouetted in the moonlight. It was Louis.

"Keep your voice down!" I laughed, "the ghosts will hear you."

"Oh, there you are."

"How did you get in?" I questioned, hopping onto my feet.

As Louis came nearer, I managed to get a better view of him. The faint moonlight from the windows highlighted his poofy bed-head, beaming smile, and the fluffy sweater zipped over his t-shirt.

"I picked the lock," he grinned, "and don't ask how I know to do that."

"How do you know to do that?"

"Not answering that," he laughed, skidding up to the stage, "shall we go then?"

As I prepared to nod my head, the soft click of the door closing behind us echoed into the theater. Suddenly everything was dark again.

"Um..." I mumbled, "Louis I can't see you."

"I can't see you either," he said, " where are you?"

"A few steps in front of you, I think."

"Give me a second," he said, before I felt his fingers graze against my shoulder, "is that you?"

"Yeah."

"Grab my hand and I'll help you off."

Doing as he said, I felt around for his palm, and slid my fingers into place with his. His hands were warm, which made me happy. The theater was freezing. Keeping true to his statement, Louis helped get me off the stage and onto the ground, his grip never changing.

"Thank you," I said softly, squinting my eyes to see in the darkness, "let's go."

I tugged on his hand, but Louis stayed stuck to his spot. There was a brief moment of silence, before he muttered a curse under his breath.

"The door is closed," he sighed.

"That's fine," I nodded, "you can pick the lock, right?"

"About that.."

"What?"

"I left the paper clip outside."

Wow.

I was so disappointed, I almost forgot I was still holding his hand. At least that made me feel a little better.

"You're an idiot, you know?" I chuckled.

"I know."

"So what are we going to do?"

"You know what?" the boy said sheepishly, "I think we should just stay here."

I cocked a brow, "what?"

"Just...right here. Don't move."

"You're only saying that because you're still holding my hand, aren't you?"

"Possibly, but you'll never know," he said, swinging our arms back and forth, "I think we should put on a play."

"Why?"

"We're stuck in a theater, aren't we?"

"You're the actor," I laughed, fumbling for my phone with my free hand, "I'll watch."

"Then prepare to be amazed!"

Swiping into my phone, I turned on my flashlight and held it up towards the stage. As Louis let go of my hand, I frowned slightly. My palms felt cold now. Turning my attention elsewhere for distraction, I noticed the boy had already resumed a proud stance in the center of the stage.

Dang, he really did look like an actor.

"I'm going to recite some lines from my favorite play," he said, "just sit back and relax."

"Act away, Louis."

"Come, bitter conduct," he exclaimed, collapsing onto his knees, "come, unsavoury guide!"

Was he...quoting...?

No. No way.

"Thou desperate pilot," he continued, "now at once run on the dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!

He was quoting Romeo and Juliet.

"Here's to my love!"

And he was really good at it too.

"O true apothecary!" he said, his voice quivering to a whisper, "thy drugs are quick."

I leaned forward in my seat, entranced by his acting. It was so poetic and lifelike, I felt moved. And I hated this scene. I hated this scene with so much, and yet here I was loving it all.

Pressing his hand above my heart, Louis turned his gaze towards me with a heartbroken look in his eyes.

"Thus," he whispered, "with a kiss I die."

I blinked, waiting for him to continue. Even though I knew the ending, I wanted to see it acted out. His acting was so beautiful, I found myself almost addicted to it.

"What are you waiting for?" I gasped, waving my hand at him, "die!"

"I cannot die yet," he shrugged.

"Why not? That's the next part of the play!"

"I can't die without a kiss," he smirked, "didn't you hear what Shakespeare said?"

Oh ho ho.

I see what he was doing.

"You know what?" I said, changing the conversation, "are you busy next week?"

Disappointed that I didn't fall for another one of his flirtatious comments, Louis let out a soft laugh, "am I busy?"

"Are you?"

"Depends on the reason."

Clicking off my flashlight, I shoved my phone into my pocket. The only reason I turned off the light was so he couldn't see me smiling in the darkness.

"I think you'd make a great Romeo," I smiled, "wouldn't you think?"

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italicized quotes are excerpts from Shakespeare's 'Romeo and Juliet'. I don't own his writing.