Prompt: “I’m standing on a balcony and you randomly began quoting Romeo and Juliet at me”
Author’s Note: I live for Theatre Nerd!Connor and so this fic happened
Words: 1,233
Warnings: Underage drinking
Parties weren’t always your favourite thing. Yeah, you went to most of the ones you were invited to, but you often left early - either your only friends had left or you had lost interest. But something compelled you to stay at this one. And that something might have been the abundance of alcohol.
You weaved your way through the crowd that had formed in the living room of the house, walking past the extremely drunk teenagers jumping - what they called ‘dancing’ - to reach the brightly lit kitchen. Almost immediately your open hand found a sealed beer can and you breathed a sigh of relief. Standing around by yourself somehow seemed less awkward with a drink to nurse.
Dreading the return back to the overcrowded living room, you tried to find an escape, at least until you finished your beer and had stayed for what the host could deem a satisfactory length of time. Deciding to explore you left the kitchen through a different door, stumbling upon a staircase whose bannister was decorated with a string of fairy lights. You followed the lights up to the second floor, your eyes immediately catching sight of a half opened door at the end of the hallway.
A balcony. Cool air. An escape. You wandered down the hallway, looking at the pictures that had been hung on the walls. Pushing the door further open you stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the thinning crowd in the back garden.
Your eyes shut as a cooling breeze washed over you, somehow cleansing you. The night sky was navy in colour, but no stars were visible: you were too close to the city. A sigh passed through your lips before you took a sip of the beer in your hand.
A cough from the garden down below caught your attention - now only one person was standing outside, and they happened to be staring directly up at you.
“Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return.” You could see the wide smile on his face even with the lack of light provided by the slowly darkening sky. But you didn’t recognise the origin of his words until he spoke again, shouting up, “The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp.”
“Oh my God!” You laughed loudly, the distant memory of the Shakespeare play you studied last year coming back. “Are you actually serious right now?” The mystery man nodded cheekily up at you, eliciting only a roll of your eyes. His eyes were still trained on you, drinking in the way you glowed in the faint light of the moon. Taking another sip of your drink you leaned on the railing. You hoped the light pouring out of the house behind you would illuminate the face of the stranger calling up to you.
“See how she leans her cheek upon her had, O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!” Apparently resting your head on your hand had been the wrong move - he had now raised his arms up towards you and had almost convinced you he might actually be confessing his undying love for you.
“Any particular reason you have these lines memorised word for word?” You said, giggling at the rising feeling of butterflies in the pit of your stomach. You never thought that someone you had never met before quoting lines of dialogue from Shakespeare’s most well known tragedy could cause these butterflies, but hey, you weren’t one to go against your gut feeling.
He simply shook his head, arms stretched wide with a toothy grin on his face.
“Is it just so you can charm a girl you might happen to see on a balcony above you?” You quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he could even see your face.
“O, speak again, bright angel, for thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven,” He had walked closer to the house, his words able to reach your ears without his shouting.
“Will you keep this up until I quote it back to you?” You sighed, leaning slightly further over, your forearms resting on the railing as your hands dangled over the edge. Apparently this man, whoever he was, was not going to reply unless in the form of a quotation, thus prompting you to continue, in a somewhat defeated tone; “How cam’st thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?”
The biggest smile came across his face and you could hear his laughter even from three metres up. “With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls, for stony limits cannot hold love out.”
“Love, huh? Well why doesn’t this Juliet’s Romeo come up here and introduce himself?” You sarcastically teased him, surprised when he almost instantaneously disappeared from your line of vision as he darted into the house. Turning around to look towards the hallway you braced yourself, simultaneously excited and nervous to come face to face with your very own Romeo.
A boy surrounded by an unruly mop of hair appeared at the top of the stairs and began walking down the hallway towards you, a lop-sided smile finding a familiar home on his face.
“Diverting from the original script never felt so right,” He said as he set foot on the balcony, hands shoved into the pockets in his jeans. He was seemed awkward without the words of Shakespeare to help, but it endeared him to you. “It’s Connor, by the way,” He reached a hand out in your direction, the movements stiff and clumsy.
“It’s nice to meet you Connor,” You grasped his hand in yours and introduced yourself. “Weird that we’re doing introductions this late in the game, considering you’ve already declared your love for me and whatnot.” The two of you were leaning against the railing, looking out over the garden.
“Would you have preferred for me to wait four days like the actual Romeo and Juliet? ‘Cause I’ll happily say the same things to you in - what? 96 hours?” His head turned to face you and you realised just how close you two were. The warmth radiating from Connor left you at a comfortable temperature as you subconsciously moved in closer. You turned your own head towards him and noticed the way he quickly glanced down to your lips before returning to look into your eyes. “Would I also have to wait 96 hours to kiss you - or can I do that now?” His voice had dropped to a whisper and you blushed at the low tone.
Instead of replying you closed the remaining distance between your lips, gently pressing yours against his. He hesitated for a split second, as if he didn’t expect you to want to kiss him, let alone instigate it. His lips were softer than you thought, although still slightly chapped, and tasted of a sugary soft drink. You felt his hand cup your jaw and you smiled into the kiss, leaning into his touch. Pulling apart to catch your respective breaths he rested his forehead on yours. Connor let out a small laugh, his thumb lightly rubbing your cheek.
“I can’t fucking believe you quoted Shakespeare to me,” You said, returning his laugh.
