When she told Gus yes, Juliet wasn't expecting to have a good time. Not because it's Gus, but because it's the opera. The closest she's ever come to seeing an opera is watching Looney Tunes as a kid, and that hadn't done much to motivate her to see one live. But he'd looked so pleased when he'd pulled the tickets out of his pocket and started rambling about some tenor she'd never heard of that she plastered a smile on and said, "Sure. Why not?"
The theater is bigger and fancier than she was expecting, and she fiddles with her purse strap until Gus takes her hand in his and holds it between them on the armrest. The lights dim, the music starts, and the curtain rises. The words are in Italian and it's too dark to see her libretto, but even as she's grinding her teeth and reminding herself that sometimes you do things you don't enjoy for the person you maybekindasorta might be falling in love with, Gus leans in closer and whispers what's happening. His lips are so close that every few words they brush her ears, sending shivers down her spine, and the sheer intensity in his voice makes her sit up a little straighter and pay a little more attention when the singing starts.
During a loving duet between the main characters, he dips his head to kiss her bare shoulder, his fingers tighten around hers whenever a plot twist or particularly beautiful note makes her gasp, and when the hero dies he strokes her knuckles with his thumb and silently hands her a hankie. She's still sniffling when the lights come back up. She kisses him anyway. Someone in the row behind them clucks disapprovingly, but it's worth it to see his smile when she pulls back and asks, "Do you think we could get tickets for tomorrow night too?"
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Written as part of the daily drabble exercise I do over on my LJ. Answers the prompt "Gus takes Juliet on a proper, fancy date. To the opera."