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The balcony was lit by moonlight as Romeo hid in a bush, like the little creep he is. He gazes at Juliet’s ethereal appearance. He’d die for her, he thought. She’s so pretty… I could just pass away right here. But no, that won’t do. He shall wait for his well-deserved fate.
Juliet was rambling her iconic monologue about Romeo dramatically, draping herself across the balcony like a dead bird. She’d make a lovely dead bird, Romeo thought. Such a strange human he is. Romeo zones out as he’s making goo-goo eyes intensely at Juliet, that she can’t even see. But he lacks intelligence, so that’s not surprising to anyone living with him. Mercutio and Tybalt would’ve made a lovely couple… he thought, too bad Tybalt stabbed him. Romeo comes to consciousness suddenly; his impulsive personality makes him hop over the tallest bush available. He thought it would make him look cool… But no. He looks like an idiot. His foot catches on a branch, and he face plants into the gardens under Juliet’s balcony. Juliet is staring down at him, looking ready to file for a restraining order—if that was a thing back in the day. Juliet gasps dramatically like a wheezing vacuum and clutches her pearls.
“Oh dear,” she breathes. “A dead body in my garden… unacceptable. I shall send for the maids to clean it up.”
Juliet turns on her heel and begins walking back into her chambers. Romeo comes to his senses—well, the little senses he has—and stands up quickly. He scales the balcony with the coordination of a newborn fawn. Juliet must be a slow walker, because by the time Romeo makes it onto her balcony, she’s only just reached the door to the hallway.
“Wait!” Romeo screeches. “My dear bird, wait!”
Juliet turns her head to him, shocked that the corpse is alive and standing—but with the few brain cells they seem to share, she doesn’t run away and call for help. Instead, she makes the logical choice to stay with the soul in the room, whom she thought a few minutes ago was a dead body.
“Darling, please, I want to be with you forever…” Romeo pouts. He pouts like the little weakling he is. “Until the day I die.”
His dramatic declaration does not fall on deaf ears, because before he can finish his sentence, Juliet throws herself into his arms. She clutches his hair, probably ripping some of it out, but Romeo doesn’t mind, since he’s too weak a human to be able to do anything about the pain anyway. He smooches her on the lips with a wet smack. Disgusting, an observing servant thinks. The servant walks away, forever scarred. It’s been an hour, and they’re still locking lips—It’s unsanitary at this point. The sun starts to rise, and they find themselves cuddling in Juliet’s bed. With their clothes on, thankfully. The poor servants don’t need to scar themselves even more now. Romeo skedaddles out of the window after smooching all over Juliet’s face again?! He’s gone to find someone to wed them in secret—because he’s a little gangly coward.