at some point I’ll need the ability to speak.
He leans in and I back away, just like we’ve practiced, but I don’t want to back away and that makes all the difference. I’ve let myself fall. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”
He smiles his crooked Luke/Romeo smile and melts my heart. Makes my knees weak. “Have not saints lips? And holy palmers too?”
And there’s no doubt in my mind they picked the perfect guy to play Romeo.
Now it’s my turn to smile at him. This is where I get to tease, better. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer .”
He leans towards me again, making my heart flutter and my hands press harder to his, clasping our fingers together. “O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant though, lest faith turn to despair.”
Every part of me is in this moment. In his eyes, the heat of the lights on the stage and nothing else touches us. Not here. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”
“Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.” He kisses me. I can’t remember if he’s supposed to here or not, but I take it. “Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.” We kiss again, and I wish I could throw my arms around him and pull us together.
“Then have my lips the sin that they have took.” The line flows from my mouth without thought.
“Sin from thy lips?” More Luke/Romeo smirk. “O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” We kiss again and stand silent until I remember my line.
“You kiss by the book.” I keep our faces close and wonder how well my voice projects.
Laura taps my shoulder, stepping into the role of Nurse. “Madam, your mother craves a word with you.”
Both me and Luke/Romeo jump. Moment broken. I suck in a breath and try to shake off the feeling of falling hard and fast. My eyes focus on Laura, not Luke. Way safer.
“Awesome.” Her smile is wide. “Let’s do it one more time and then we’ll move on to the balcony scene, okay?”
I turn away from her, from Luke, weak with the emotional intensity of him, of me, of my role…of everything. I pull in a deep breath, and prepare to fall again.
After another run-through of the party scene and three run-throughs of the balcony scene, I’m exhausted. Luke’s eyes hold something incredible, and either he’s a good actor, or has feelings I don’t want to think or know about. One thing I do know is that his kiss is addictive.
Well, he’s been doing this for a while. He’s a good actor. I’m okay, because having Luke as anything more than what he is, my friend, won’t work.
Laura thanks us and takes off. I stand on the edge of the stage. I’m suddenly unsure of where my eyes should be, or my hands, or myself.
“I need to get my pack and then I’ll walk you home.” Luke jogs backstage and emerges a moment later with his bag. I watch him walk toward me in a way I probably shouldn’t. In a way that makes my insides tingly. I wonder how long it’ll take for my part in the play to wear off, because I’m still feeling unsettling, nervous jitters around him, and he’s Luke. My friend. Not Romeo.
“Was that totally weird for you?” He stops, facing me.
“I don’t know.” Yes and no; his question is almost impossible to answer.
“Thanks for doing this with me, Ronnie. It was weird with Liesl but fun with you.”
“Okay, good.” And because I don’t know what else to do I put my arms around him in a hug.
The theater is quiet and still. His arms hold me easily, and even with my platforms on, my head rests on the top of his shoulder. And then our hug feels different. More like Romeo, not Luke. He feels so good. My body is screaming for me to never pull away, but I know I have to.
When I step back our eyes lock, and if it was someone else, in a different circumstance, we’d
He leans in and I back away, just like we’ve practiced, but I don’t want to back away and that makes all the difference. I’ve let myself fall. “Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”
He smiles his crooked Luke/Romeo smile and melts my heart. Makes my knees weak. “Have not saints lips? And holy palmers too?”
And there’s no doubt in my mind they picked the perfect guy to play Romeo.
Now it’s my turn to smile at him. This is where I get to tease, better. “Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer .”
He leans towards me again, making my heart flutter and my hands press harder to his, clasping our fingers together. “O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant though, lest faith turn to despair.”
Every part of me is in this moment. In his eyes, the heat of the lights on the stage and nothing else touches us. Not here. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”
“Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.” He kisses me. I can’t remember if he’s supposed to here or not, but I take it. “Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.” We kiss again, and I wish I could throw my arms around him and pull us together.
“Then have my lips the sin that they have took.” The line flows from my mouth without thought.
“Sin from thy lips?” More Luke/Romeo smirk. “O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” We kiss again and stand silent until I remember my line.
“You kiss by the book.” I keep our faces close and wonder how well my voice projects.
Laura taps my shoulder, stepping into the role of Nurse. “Madam, your mother craves a word with you.”
Both me and Luke/Romeo jump. Moment broken. I suck in a breath and try to shake off the feeling of falling hard and fast. My eyes focus on Laura, not Luke. Way safer.
“Awesome.” Her smile is wide. “Let’s do it one more time and then we’ll move on to the balcony scene, okay?”
I turn away from her, from Luke, weak with the emotional intensity of him, of me, of my role…of everything. I pull in a deep breath, and prepare to fall again.
After another run-through of the party scene and three run-throughs of the balcony scene, I’m exhausted. Luke’s eyes hold something incredible, and either he’s a good actor, or has feelings I don’t want to think or know about. One thing I do know is that his kiss is addictive.
Well, he’s been doing this for a while. He’s a good actor. I’m okay, because having Luke as anything more than what he is, my friend, won’t work.
Laura thanks us and takes off. I stand on the edge of the stage. I’m suddenly unsure of where my eyes should be, or my hands, or myself.
“I need to get my pack and then I’ll walk you home.” Luke jogs backstage and emerges a moment later with his bag. I watch him walk toward me in a way I probably shouldn’t. In a way that makes my insides tingly. I wonder how long it’ll take for my part in the play to wear off, because I’m still feeling unsettling, nervous jitters around him, and he’s Luke. My friend. Not Romeo.
“Was that totally weird for you?” He stops, facing me.
“I don’t know.” Yes and no; his question is almost impossible to answer.
“Thanks for doing this with me, Ronnie. It was weird with Liesl but fun with you.”
“Okay, good.” And because I don’t know what else to do I put my arms around him in a hug.
The theater is quiet and still. His arms hold me easily, and even with my platforms on, my head rests on the top of his shoulder. And then our hug feels different. More like Romeo, not Luke. He feels so good. My body is screaming for me to never pull away, but I know I have to.
When I step back our eyes lock, and if it was someone else, in a different circumstance, we’d
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