To be or not to be that is the question.
Ophelia gazed out her bedroom window, she thought of last summer when her father Polonious had given her grief about not finishing her studies and failing her exam at the study hall. When was the last time she even attended anything educational? Her memory went blank.
Then she paused and thought of Hamlet. His features; height, width, color. It was all in her head, it was all speaking to her. Those crystal blue eyes that would stare into her soul and cast a spell upon her. He'd have them covered. He was constantly wearing eye protectors (sunglasses to be exact), and only took them off for certain purposes; talking to her.
"Well, well, well who have we here?" said a familiar voice.
Ophelia turned around and leaped into Hamlet's arms, she wanted to kiss him... but didn't.
"Why do you look so pale my dear Ophelia, has the day been long. Have the boys been bugging you?"
Ophelia gave him a confused look.
" Pale my lord? I do not look pale, if anything you look pale."
Hamlet smiled; his teeth shinned and his hair remained flat. A sort of chestnut color his hair was, like her own. Ophelia's hair was slightly darker and less radiant in the sun. Hamlet then approached Ophelia and placed his left hand on her right cheek.
"What are you doing my lord?" Ophelia wonder.
Hamlet without another word kissed her soft lips and pushed her carefully up the side of the wall. She hesitated briefly but eventually her infatuations had taken over. Hamlet and her were one. She enjoyed every moment of him, making that five seconds of a kiss into a lifetime. His tongue slid into her mouth but softly,... then he took it out.
"That's enough!" Hamlet spoke.
"My lord, why must you be done so quickly?" Ophelia wanted him to continue so bad.
Then without hesitation, Hamlet slipped on his mantle and left her bedroom. Polonious had been watching.