Romeo gripped the poison like a lifeline, staring at the small, unassuming bottle. His gaze tore itself from the vial and landed on Juliet, who looked as if she could be sleeping rather than being held in death's cold grip. A gaping hole in his heart, filled with pain and sorrow so strong that if left him gasping, ached. It ached for what they could never have, for what could have been, and for what was. The grief manifested itself in a dull, numbing throb that overpowered everything, and his hands clenched, tightening around the vial, and his nails dug into his palms.
"My sweet Juliet," he murmured, his voice raw, and his throat clogged for a moment. He swallowed heavily, unable to tear his attention away from the corpse of his beloved wife. "I cannot live without you, and so I willingly consent to join you." He raised the vial to his lips, feeling the cool touch of glass on his lips, closed his eyes, and-
Someone groaned.
His eyes shot open and the vial slipped from nerveless fingers, shattering on the floor. He didn't pay it an ounce of attention, instead, gaping in disbelief at the tomb. Juliet's arm lifted slowly, and he tracked its movement with an almost desperate intensity as she draped it over her face. Her chest began to rise and fall, drawing in, and releasing air as she hadn't been mere moments before.
"Juliet?" He whispered, her name a breath that whooshed from his mouth without his permission, colored in painful, painful hope.
"Ten more minutes." She muttered.
An incredulous chuckled escaped. Then it grew into a chortle and soon he was doubled over, clutching at his stomach as he roared with laughter, the sound echoing in the enclosed tomb. If there were tears streaming down his face, or if he was a little hysterical, then there was no one around willing to mention it.
A hand touched his shoulder and he looked up into the beautiful blue eyes of his lovely, living, and breathing wife. "Romeo?" She said softly, her eyes brimming with unasked questions, and her head tilted slightly to the side.
"Juliet." He said in return, dragging her into a hug, and she was so warm, and there. His arms wrapped themselves around her tightly, almost in autopilot, and he buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in her presence. It was a bit musty, the smell of the tomb lingering, but there was also the recognizable scent of lilac that was pure Juliet.
A sob tore itself from his throat and he clutched her even tighter.
"I love you." He whispered. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you."
"I love you too." She replied gently, carding her fingers through his hair.