Alright – before you guys can beat me up for this being so despicably late, I'd better post a disclaimer.
DISCLAIMER – I own nada except Allegra. In this chapter, the portrayals of Tybalt and Rosaline are owned by Jasminta Blossom and so is Gabriel. Special thanks to her for letting me use them!
And, obviously, there's the whole Shakespeare thing. I'm not him.
Enjoy, you people. And review.
. . . .
"For the millionth time, Tibby, turn that down," Rosaline hissed, not even bother to look up as she typed on her laptop. "I have to get this done by tonight."
Tybalt held up a finger to hush his wife. This was the final round; Dirty Ezzio was just about to pin Filthy Ricardo! There was a thrust, a double-cut, and then the screen went black.
"HEY!" Tybalt shouted as Rosaline slunk back to the sofa, dropping the chord on the ground. "Wha - come on, Ros! It was almost over!"
Rosaline shook her head. "I told you literally fifty times to turn it off because I couldn't concentrate because I had to write this paper! Why is that so hard for you to understand?"
Sighing, and deciding he didn't have an answer, Tybalt leaned back against the sofa with his arms crossed. He didn't seem to understand Rosaline at all nowadays.
"And clean up this mess before your mom gets home, would you?" Rosaline added, typing away.
Tybalt groaned in response as Foo-Foo rubbed up against his legs. "The last fuckin' thing I want to do right now is clean."
"Well, it's your mom's house, you're the one who decided to stay here over Easter, and I'm busy!" Rosaline snapped.
"Alright, alright, Jesus..." Tybalt knew better than to argue with Rosaline after a certain point. But as he threw dirty clothes into a garbage bag, he thought about the things he wished he could say. Why was Rosaline always so nasty lately? It felt like she was always busy and he never had any patience. People said married life was like that - the first year or so was the hardest - but what the fuck did they know? Tybalt loved Rosaline, and he knew she loved him, too - but after that thing with Berowne and the drama with Hermia and everything else, he felt ignored. Which reminded him...
"Ros?"
"Mmm."
"Why haven't I gotten any in , like, two months?"
Rosaline shook her head and looked up, her red lips tightly pursed. "Are you kidding?"
Suddenly the door burst open. Tybalt got ready to apologize to his mother for the mess, but instead of his mother, there stood a long-haired pretty boy.
"The hell are you doing here?" Tybaly asked Gabriel.
Gabriel didn't answer. "I have major news."
"Gabriel, shouldn't you be at La Scala?" Rosaline asked, shutting her laptop. "What *are* you doing here?"
"I simply had to come back once I heard about the party!" Gabriel said, stepping over the clothes on the floor. "Even though I wasn't invited and my girlfriend was."
"Party? What party?" Rosaline asked her half-brother.
"Hell-o! The party at the palace! Mercutio's party! Duh."
Tybalt sniffed and started to pick up the clothes again. "Who cares of that lunatic is having a party?"
"It's not just any party!" Gabriel insisted. "Legit *everyone* is invited - even Amparo!"
"We weren't," Rosaline said.
"And neither was I! So I came here today -" Gabriel sat down "-to see if you guys wanted to help me ruin Mercutio's plans."
"Go on," Tybalt said.