"William Shakespeare," Elsa said, licking the chocolate off the tips of her fingers. I leaned forward on the study table, my eyes focused solely on her.
"He wrote all these play-things, like forever ago."
I hummed, slightly interested. She cast me a side-long glance.
"Do you like plays or something?"
I shrugged, before giving a slight nod.
"I like musicals. Do you remember that time that "Cats" came to the community theater?" I nodded. "I went to see that with my mom! She and I really like those things. She promised to take me to "The Phantom of the Opera" in a couple years." She beamed, practically bouncing in excitement.
I smiled encouragingly at her. She looked back into the book.
"He wrote lots of plays, like "The Tempest", "Julius...something", and "O-the-slow?", and something called "Romeo and Juliet"." I perked up at the last one, which she noticed.
It took her only a couple minutes to look up "Romeo and Juliet". "I guess it's sad. I mean...it says it's a tragedy, I guess. But...it's a love story too?"
A line appeared in between her eyebrows, her lips pressing together. She looked up at me a moment later, causing me to quickly look down. I felt my face heat up.
"But love isn't sad..." she said, still sounding confused.
Before that moment, I thought that as well. But when I looked up at Elsa, meeting her intelligent, though hopelessly oblivious eyes, my opinion changed.