Classic Literature — Romeo Montague

"Thee wouldst behold prettier with a smile on thy visage; thee knoweth yond, right?" Romeo grew you a smile, placing one of his hands on yours, interwining your fingers together.

Since the marriage you can't help but to feel a bitter taste on your mouth, maybe it was because he insisted—read coerced—you into marrying him in secret without any care about the consequences of your families find out.

It's just weird that for someone his age he still is as immature and childish as a small boy, it's like he never grew up. Sometimes it's a mystery if he loves your or if he's just obsessing over his new toy. Either way he's still very irresponsible.

Even at this picnic he made for you, he could've brought meat and fruits from his home. Instead, he sat with you at an dark part of the woods with no food but an old and small bottle already drank wine—you also suspect that it've been probably open longer than you are alive. And for sustance: he doesn't think about it; he thinks that if you don't think about a problem it will go away, which actually makes sense why he acts like the way he does.

Noticing your silence, and the fact you didn't smile when he asked for, he frowned, his lips turning down. "Art thee listening to me?" The foolish boy asked with a sour tone on his tongue.