[ WP/MP ] Write a story reimagining a character from another piece of fiction as down-and-out/washed up/past their prime .


 She shuddered as she heard the door slam shut and his shuffling footsteps drew near. Sitting up straight in the chair she refused to turn as his fat fingers fumbled the latch to the bedroom door. After a moment of his flailing she opened it and stared into his heavy face. He squinted at her, eyes beady bright from too much wine, sunk into the folds and rolls that seemed to dominate him. Every part of him seemed too heavy, as if more than just fat and years clung to his frame, more than the just the miasma of wine and women who could be bought for the night. After a moment of staring at her he lowered his eyes and slunk away, muttering under his breath. She sighed, hating his slow shambling and warm fetid breath. Hating his temerity in seeking her bedroom, the way in which he had looked at her so hopefully. Hating most how easily he was cowed by her silence. 
 
 Turning away from the door, she again looked upon the dagger and the poison laid out upon her desk. She moved towards them, hand caressing the smoothness of the vial, the coldness of the blade. Holding the two she casts her mind back, it had not always been like this between them. Once they had been young and so beautiful. Their love had been wild and fierce; untamed, uncontrolled, a strong cry of defiance in the faces of their families endless feuding. As usual, when she lingered on the past, she returned to another night and another set of death in the form of a dagger and vial. Sometimes in these moments she even dared to speculate how that night might have ended had she not awoken in time. In the very back of her mind the thought would creep up that it would have been better, that given the choice she would have remained asleep until after the deadly draught had passed his lips. 
 
 This thought kept creeping throughout her, slowly smothering any attempts to make the most of what she did have. Quietly killing her feeble attempts to move away from the past and create a better future. This thought led to this night, she steeled her nerves and finally gave voice to the thought and acknowledged that she would rather have died with him that night than live the life she had. 
 
 Her fingers closed upon the hilt and gathering it up with the poison she made her way to his room. For a moment she caressed his face, recalling the dashing boy he had been. 
 
 “ Juliet ” he croaked, still mostly asleep, “ Wherefore art thou? ” 
 
 “ Hush Romeo ” She soothed him. “ Take this and drink my love. ” 
 
 He stared at her, struggling into a semi wakefulness. Perhaps in his wine soaked brain he also understood, there appeared to be a glimmer of recollection in eyes. A ghost of a smile formed on his lips and without objection he took the vial from her hands and drank. 
 
 “ Will we be remembered? ” he asked. 
 
 “ Who is to say, ” she replied and picked up the dagger. 

