A/N: This is my oneshot for magiclover222 - and I'm anticipating two more parts, so it is no longer a oneshot, but instead a threeshot :)

Warnings: It is based very heavily on Romeo and Juliet, therefore this comes with the warnings of major character death by suicide and other means, and ridiculously fast falling in love - plus some very confused attitudes to homosexuality (sometimes it appears accepted, other times it doesn't!)

Please also note that, in this version, Thad and Sebastian's characters are not related, as they would be in the play, because otherwise the story would become rather awkward...

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee and I do not own Romeo and Juliet.

The streets of Verona that morning were unusually quiet, almost disturbingly so, and anyone who looked out over the city that day shook their heads and sighed; the silence spoke of an impending event that might strike them at any moment.

There was undeniable tension in the air that day, even more so than usual, due to the endless feud between the two most influential families of the city; the Sterlings and the Duvals. They'd been enemies for as long as anyone could remember, but no could remember how the animosity had begun, not even the families themselves really knew; it was just something that had always been there.

Suddenly, the stillness in the air was broken by the sound of footsteps over the cobbles, there were two men approaching the main square. Both were dressed in the rough tunics and breeches, while jackets were slung across their shoulders and swords hung from their belts; they were servants of the Duval family by the names of Puck and Sam.

They were talking aimlessly as they returned from an errand to the house of their master, when around the corner of the street came two more figures. The two newcomers were dressed in a similar fashion to Sam and Puck, but these men were Sterling servants, Kurt and Blaine.

"Look, Puck, here comes Kurt and Blaine," Sam leaned over to whisper to his companion, "Do you think they are looking for trouble?"

Puck barked out a short laugh.

"They're Sterling servants, they're always looking for trouble!" he said.

Across the street, Kurt and Blaine heard Puck's laughter, and immediately assumed that it was directed at them.

"Say, Puckerman," Blaine called out, "A jest at our expense?"

"No more than usual, Anderson," Puck retorted, "We wouldn't want to offend you now, would we?"

"It takes more than a petty insult from you to offend us," Kurt stepped in, "For you'd paint us as weaklings, wouldn't you?"

"Why waste the paint?" Sam laughed, "We know it already."

Blaine clenched his hands into fists by his side.

"Come, Sam," Puck said, noticing the other two men's discomfort. "We have better things to do at this time of day than to hang around gossiping."

"If anyone's a gossip, it would be you," Blaine said defiantly, "Draw your swords, men, if you have the courage to do so."

The four men drew their swords from their belts, and held them defensively in front of them.

"Have you not the strength or skill to use them?" Puck mocked, as neither Kurt nor Blaine made a move forwards.

"Wise men do not act hastily," Kurt shot back, before leaning over towards Blaine. "Here comes Wes, we have the advantage on our side now."

Blaine nodded once, before advancing on the two Duval servants with his sword in front of him. The two pairs fought for several minutes, until Wes took notice of them and came rushing over.

"Fools!" he cried, "Put up your swords, and stop this fighting in the street. It's meaningless violence for the sake of your prides, nothing more."

"I don't know, Wesley," the smooth voice of Hunter Clarington, the nephew of old Lord Duval, interrupted, "They seem to be doing something much more honourable than you."

Wes narrowed his eyes at the other man; Hunter was known for his fierce family pride, and a penchant for fighting.

"They are fools, fighting a fool's battle," the Sterling kinsman spoke calmly, "Help me stop them, or be on your way."

Hunter smirked and drew his own sword.

"I will not help a Sterling," he said, "For I despise you and your family. Draw your own sword, Wesley, and fight to retain what little pride you may still have."

Unwilling to appear reluctant to defend his family and himself in front of some of his servants, Wes drew his sword and faced Hunter.

As they fought, several men from both houses entered the street and took up arms against each other. The citizens of Verona leaned out of their windows, or peered from shop doorways to watch the scene unfold in front of them; while all of them wondered if this was the culmination of the tension that they'd been feeling beforehand, or whether there was something else to come for them.

The shouting from the two houses brought both Lord Duval and Lord Sterling into the streets as well, accompanied by their respective wives.

"Fetch my sword!" Lord Duval declared, hoping that someone in the vicinity would bring him what he wanted.

"What good is you getting involved?" Lady Duval asked, "Stay here and do not make a laughing stock of yourself out there."

Across the cobbles, Lady Sterling was almost physically restraining her husband from becoming involved.

"This is not your quarrel," she protested, but the older man was insistent.

"I may not have started this, but any fight between my kinsmen and the Duvals is my fight as well."

The uproar continued for several minutes more, until a sharp whistle cut the air and silence fell across the streets; the men dropped their swords or sheathed them, and the citizens retreated inside and closed their shutters.

"What is the meaning of this brawl in a public area?" Thad, the prince of Verona demanded of those around him as he dismounted from his horse.

He was met with silence from both sides.

"These fights are becoming far too regular," he continued regardless, "In a week, there have been three occurrences for a petty argument that no one remembers the foundations of, but still they continue to provoke the others for the sake of their own selfish pride." He paused to see that he had suitably reprimanded them for their actions, but no amount of empty words would deter them from fighting again. "Hereby, I declare that furthermore, any more fighting within these city streets will result in the instigators forfeiting with their lives." He clapped his hands together. "Now, everyone, go about your business."

The calm that had descended on everyone during Thad's speech dissipated in that instant and the street was once again full of shouted voices as a few last insults were hurled from both sides.

Eventually, however, only Lord Sterling and Wes were left alone on the cobbles.

"Wesley, my dear nephew, have you seen Jeffrey today?" Lord Sterling inquired about the whereabouts of his son. "I'm rather worried about him, he's been incredibly distant lately."

Wes gave his uncle a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure there's nothing amiss," he said, "Jeff's probably just got something on his mind; you know how he is sometimes."

Lord Sterling nodded.

"He's my only son," he said, "I worry about him a lot."

He nodded to Wes once more, and then disappeared back up the street in the direction of his house.

As soon as he was gone, however, Jeff himself rounded the corner at the opposite end of the street.

Jeff Sterling was taller than Wes, and he had the brightest blonde hair that Wes claimed to have ever seen on a person. He was Wes' younger cousin, barely older than seventeen, but he'd already made a name for himself, not just as the son and heir of Lord Sterling, but also as a slight troublemaker, if any of his previous escapades had proved anything.

He was usually excessively cheerful, and often appeared to possess more energy than one person could possibly ever need in their entire lifetime; but today, there was no extra spring in his step, and he seemed distinctly miserable.

"I say, Jeff, why the sad face?" Wes asked as his cousin came to a halt beside him, "Your father's been looking for you, where've you been?"

"I went for a walk," Jeff explained, but his thoughts appeared to be somewhere other than the conversation. "I wanted to clear my head a little; not that it happened."

"Something's on your mind," Wes said astutely, "I know you too well, and if you don't tell anyone, you'll let it get to you too much. So go on, out with it!"

"It's rather difficult to explain," Jeff said slowly, "For Wes, have you ever felt as though there's a part of you missing? As though you've misplaced an entire limb, and you cannot remember where you left it, no matter how long or hard you search for it."

Wes nodded.

"I understand," he said gently, "Jeff, I think you'll find that you are just feeling rather lonely. I suppose it was to be expected, really, for the only people you interact with regularly are me and Sebastian, and we've both been rather busy lately."

"It's something like that, I guess," Jeff said, "I feel like I'm missing out on something, but I can't work out what it is."

"Alright," Wes decided, "We'll have to organise a distraction for you, to take your mind off this issue. Now, if only I had an idea as to what we could do!"

"How old is your son now, Lord Duval?" the Earl of Lopez asked, as he and Lord Duval were walking side by side in the garden of the Duval house.

"He'll be seventeen in a fortnight," Lord Duval replied, "The same age as your daughter, if I am correct?"

"She has been seventeen for more than a month now," the Earl said, "And it is time that she was married, for she has denied all the suitors that I find for her up until now; she cannot refuse such a suit as that of your son."

Lord Duval nodded.

"They will make a good match," he agreed, "Although, let us not be too hasty in our decisions, for a betrothal may last for a year or two until Nicholas is a little older."

"Why wait so long?" the Earl asked, "Your son is mature for his age, and Santana needs to settle down as soon as possible. They could be married by the end of the month."

"But Nicholas is my only son," Lord Duval continued, "When all of my other children have died, I would not want to rush this union so that it falls foul of what it could have been. Allow them a time of courtship, a year at the most, let's say, and with an official betrothal after my son's birthday, your daughter may settle down and accept the marriage much easier."

"I certainly hope so," the Earl of Lopez said, "So, we shall organise a betrothal for the pair at the beginning of the next month. I shall, of course, provide half of Santana's dowry by then; the rest shall be given at the wedding itself."

The two men shook hands on their agreement.

"I propose a ball tonight," Lord Duval said, "Nicholas will, of course, be in attendance, and if you should wish to present Santana, then the two of them can meet."

"Very good," the Earl nodded, "You can expect us there tonight."

Wes and Jeff were heading back to the Sterling household, when they chanced upon a servant, holding a sheet of paper, but struggling mightily to read what had been written on it.

"Pray, good fellows," the servant cried, sounding relieved to see two evidently well-educated young men in front of him, "Can you read?"

"I can try," Jeff replied, "What is it that you are struggling with?"

"My master has given me a message to deliver to whoever is written here," the servant explained, "But I cannot deliver a message if I do not know who it is for."

"Here, I will read it for you," Jeff said, taking the offered sheet and holding it up. He effortlessly reeled off a meaningless list of names of the members of all the finest houses in the city of Verona. "Say, sir, is there something that these people are supposed to be attending?"

"A ball, at my master's house," the servant said.

"And your master?"

"I should have said, he is Lord Duval; and if you be not of the house of Sterling, then you should join us tonight," the servant nodded, "Thank you for your help. Good day."

The man turned on his heel and headed up the street in the direction of the first family on the list.

"Did you hear that?" Wes asked, once the servant was out of earshot.

"Hear what?" Jeff said, "It was nothing; he said we should attend if we were not of the house of Sterling, the last time I checked we both were, and therefore there is nothing to discuss."

"But Jeff," Wes insisted, "It will be a fine opportunity for you to forget about all of your worries and just have some fun! There'll probably be plenty of people there for you to admire, as well." He winked in such a completely un-Wes like way that it caught Jeff off guard.

"I, er, they'll all be Duvals," he protested, "There's no point!"

"You read that list, Jeff," Wes pointed out, "The majority of them were no relation at all. Come on, loosen up a little, won't you? You're usually up for this sort of thing."

Jeff shrugged.

"Maybe I'm just not feeling up to it, Wes," he said, but his cousin would not give up.

"Well, you've got three hours to make yourself up for it," Wes said, "Otherwise I will get Sebastian to forcibly drag you there."

"David, have you seen Nick?" Lady Duval asked, her head appearing around the door to Nick's set of rooms.

David Thompson, Nick's best friend and manservant was perched on the window seat reading a book just inside the door. He looked up at the sound of Nick's mother's voice.

"He should be around somewhere," David said, "He left a few moments ago because he wanted to take a walk in the gardens before dinner."

Lady Duval thought for a moment.

"Will he back soon? Or could you go and find him for me?"

"I could go, if you wanted," David said, "He won't have got far."

"Who won't have got far?" a new voice called from just outside in the corridor.

Lady Duval sighed in relief.

"Nicholas, dear," she said, "There you are."

"You were looking for me, Mother?" he asked, as he was ushered inside his rooms and the door was closed behind him.

"I was, dear," Lady Duval said, "I wanted to tell you about a very important decision that your father has made for you."

"Do sit down, your ladyship," David spoke suddenly, pulling up some chairs so that they could all sit.

"Thank you, David," Nick's mother said, "Now, where was I?"

"Father has decided something for me," Nick prompted, "You were about to tell me what it was."

"Of course, dear," Lady Duval nodded, "Your father met with the Earl of Lopez earlier today, and they came to an agreement for your betrothal to the Earl's daughter, the Lady Santana." She paused. "So, what are your views on marriage, my dear?"

Nick took a moment to register everything that had just been said, but eventually he composed himself.

"If Father deems this a suitable match," he said carefully, "Then I cannot refuse; it would be an honour to accept the Lady Santana's hand in marriage."

His words appeared to please his mother.

"Wonderful," she declared, "I knew that this would be a joyous occasion for you." She got up and headed for the door. "And Nicholas, you have two hours to prepare yourself; there is a ball tonight in your name, and the Lady Santana will be there for you to meet."

And with that message, she departed from the room, leaving Nick staring in disbelief at the empty chair which she had been sitting in moments ago.

"Nick," David tried to get his friend's attention, "Hey, Nick, snap out of it, will you?"

Nick jumped as the other boy flicked his fingers in front of his face.

"Sorry," he apologised, "I was just thinking about…"

"What your mother said, I know," David finished his sentence for him. "It's a lot to take in, I guess."

Nick turned to face his friend.

"What am I supposed to think?" he asked, "Marriage? I'm not even seventeen yet; I'm not ready to get married!"

"There are men that have been married earlier than you have," David reminded him.

"That's just it," Nick cried, "I'm not a man, am I? I'm just a boy still, and I don't want to marry some complete stranger, I want to…"

"Fall in love and marry the perfect person for you," David finished his sentence once again. "You're always saying that after reading those romance novels I find you."

Nick sighed.

"Am I wrong to want that, David?" he asked.

His friend shook his head.

"I don't think you're wrong, Nick," he said, "But that's not how your marriage is going to work, it was never going to be about loving the other person, it was a business deal for your father; you've always known that." He cast a sad glance over at Nick. "Anyway, at least Santana's a beautiful girl, and you'll be envied by everyone else. Granted, she's a little wild sometimes, but once you're married, she'll settle down."

"I don't want to be envied, David!" Nick cried, "If she's so in demand, let someone else have her! She mostly certainly shan't want me."

David shook his head.

"You know that it doesn't work like that," he said sadly, "Look, go to this ball tonight and speak to her, dance with her a little and make up your mind once you've returned."

Nick got up and headed for the door to one of the adjoining rooms.

"I suppose I have no choice," he said, "I will be dressed in a few minutes, and then I shall go and meet my future bride."

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Jeff hissed to Wes and Sebastian, who were both a few paces in front of him by the hedge which bordered the garden of the Duval house.

"Of course it is, Jeffy-boy," Sebastian said, turning around to smirk at the other boy, "You need have good time and stop moping around all the time. What happened to the old Jeff, eh? The old Jeff would have joined in with this, no problem."

Jeff shrugged.

"This is a waste of time," he grumbled, but he followed after his friends anyway.

"Well, at least you haven't left us yet," Sebastian said. He was one of Jeff's closest friends, not a blood relative, but family enough to be counted as one of the Sterlings.

"It's only because I don't have anything better to be doing," Jeff said. "Can we hurry up and go in yet?"

"Patience, Jeff," Wes held up his hand, "They're still eating, but once they have we will go in."

He surveyed his two friends.

"Now, are your masks ready?" he asked, as Jeff and Sebastian held their respective masks in the air and nodded.

"Why do we need these?" Sebastian said, twirling his elaborately adorned mask in his hand. "It hides my face."

Wes rolled his eyes.

"That's the point," he said dryly, "We don't want anyone to recognise us; no matter how wonderful you claim that your features are."

Sebastian looked hurt.

"I resent that," he said, "Granted, I have enough charm without people seeing my face, but still…"

"Sebastian, if you mention your 'charm' once more, I'm going home," Jeff cut in quickly.

Sebastian frowned and turned away, under his breath he muttered something that sounded like:

"You're just jealous."

"Alright, they're getting up to dance now," Wes said, "Let's go."

He led them around the hedge and up to the doormen on the front step.

"Good evening, gentlemen," the man said, "Please do enjoy your evening."

They all nodded politely, and stepped over the threshold into the grand entrance hall. A servant directed them to the ballroom, and there they were greeted by the master of the house, Lord Duval himself.

"Welcome, my fine friends," Lord Duval cried, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "Come, and dance awhile. Musicians, play for us so that the ladies can dance for our guests."

As with all masquerades, Jeff, Sebastian and Wes were invited to dance with the ladies in the room, and they appeared to be the centre of attention for a while, as everyone vied for the chance to partner them in a dance.

However, across the room, Nick's mother whispered in Nick's ear that it was high time that he asked Santana to dance with him. Hesitantly, he approached her, and she politely accepted his request.

"So," she said, as the band settled into a comfortable slow rhythm, "You're the boy that I'm supposed to marry; my father says that we'll be betrothed at the beginning of next month."

"That's right," Nick said, too busy trying not to step on the girl's feet to make much of a conversation.

"Well, I guess that I'd better make a few things clear then," Santana continued, "Firstly, you're rather short, aren't you? It doesn't really bother me, I suppose, but you could have grown a little more. Secondly, I think it's pretty obvious, but I'm not in love with you, and you're not in love with me; in fact, I reckon that neither of us is even attracted in the slightest to the other."

Nick gaped at her.

"How…how," he stuttered, "Er, what?"

Santana raised an eyebrow.

"You like boys, don't you?"

Nick hushed her hurriedly.

"Don't let anyone hear you say that," he said, "But yes, I do."

"It's alright," Santana said, "Your secret's safe with me. Anyway, I'm in love with one of our maidservants."

Nick's mouth dropped open yet again.

"Does anyone know?" he asked.

"Oh, don't look like that," the girl said, "And of course no one knows."

Slowly, Nick smiled.

"You know what," he said, "I may never love you, Santana, but I do like you a lot, and I guess that we'll be pretty good friends."

Santana grinned.

"You're lucky that I like you too," she said.

They continued to dance for another few minutes, moving carefully through all of the other couples, and making a point of circling several times past their respective parents, who all nodded and said what a lovely pair they made.

They were just passing one of the masked guests when Santana eagerly tapped Nick's arm with her fingers.

"What is it?" Nick asked.

"That man over there, well, he's more of a boy, really," she said, "Yes, that one over there with the mask on. He's been staring at you for the past five minutes; he hasn't looked at anyone else."

"And?" Nick asked blankly.

"So, he likes you," Santana replied, "Go and talk to him."

"I can't!" Nick protested, "I'll get all tongue-tied and make a fool of myself. Anyway, I can't see his face, I might not like him back."

Santana sighed.

"One," she said, "You really shouldn't be so picky about looks, and two, it's obvious that he's attractive; I just know it!"

"You don't even like men," Nick muttered, but he still paused to bow to Santana and hand her over to another partner.

The girl winked at him, and gave him a small nudge over towards the masked boy.

Taking a deep breath, he hurried over.

Jeff ceased dancing for a moment so that he could catch his breath, and he hovered by the side of the room while he watched the dancers in front of him. Many couples passed him, but one in particular caught his eye; a boy of around his own age and a dark haired girl who was possibly a little older. They were talking together, but they were too quiet for Jeff to catch their words. Anyway, he was too busy being mesmerised by how handsome the brunette boy was, and how cute it was that every time his hair fell in his eyes, he flicked his head a little to get it out of the way.

The only frustrating issue was the manner in which he was interacting with the girl, who Jeff couldn't deny was extremely beautiful, but it did seem to mean that the brunette would not be interested in him at all.

"Excuse me?" the blonde turned to a servant next to him, "But who is that boy over there? The small brunette."

The man, clearly a hired servant, shook his head.

"I have no idea, sir," he said, before disappearing with a tray of empty glasses.

Jeff turned back to the couple to see the brunette lean into the girl to hear something that she was saying, and then, suddenly, the boy glanced over in his direction. Jeff's heart skipped a beat as their eyes locked, even if only for a second. He tried to calm himself down, for the boy had just looked at him, he hadn't even left the girl and come over either.

And then, suddenly, the boy was also walking over to him. A million possibilities raced through Jeff's head; was he coming over to talk to him? Or would he just tell him not to keep staring creepily at him?

"Er, hello," the brunette said nervously, "I couldn't help noticing you, er, looking over at me, and so I'd thought I'd come over and talk to you."

Jeff flushed.

"Hello," he said slightly awkwardly, "Yes, I did, er, notice you dancing, and, er, shall we go somewhere out of the way to talk?"

The brunette nodded and quickly led Jeff over to a small alcove at the side of the ballroom, away from the rest of the guests.

"We can talk here," he said.

Hunter looked up from where he'd just left one of daughters of a wealthy duke after dancing with her for several minutes, and overheard a small part of Nick and Jeff's conversation.

He knew Jeff's voice at once.

A Sterling.

"Uncle," he said, hurrying over to where Lord Duval was sipping at his drink, "We have a Sterling here."

"What makes you think that?" the lord asked, looking around at the guests.

"I recognised him," Hunter explained, "He's come as part of the masquerade. Shall I get rid of him?"

Lord Duval shook his head.

"I shouldn't think that will be necessary," he said, "Let him be, he's causing no trouble."

"All Sterlings are troublemakers," Hunter insisted, "Especially this one."

"Who is it then?"

"Young Jeff, the heir. I should reckon that the other two are his friends. Uncle, we should not entertain such villains in our own house."

"They're hardly villains," Lord Duval frowned, "They're just dancing. Now, stop being so insolent and have some fun."

He waved his nephew away, and with a determined look on his face, Hunter disappeared into the crowds; he wasn't going to let any Sterlings cause a scene for his family, if they caused any trouble, he'd deal with it.

Nick and Jeff stood in silence in the alcove for a few moments, just studying each other.

"You know, you're possibly the most handsome person I've ever laid eyes upon," Jeff said boldly, reaching out to take Nick's hands in his own.

Nick blushed.

"So, are you," he replied, "And if you would remove the mask, you would be even more so."

Jeff grinned.

"If only I could," he said, "But then the illusion would be ruined." He cupped Nick's cheek in the palm of his hand and leaned in closer to him, so that there was barley any space between them. "Forgive me," he whispered.

And he closed the gap between their lips and kissed Nick softly. It was a tender kiss, lingering and full of the sudden love that both of them were feeling.

Slowly, and almost reluctantly, Jeff pulled away and rested his forehead on the brunette's own.

"Perfect," Nick breathed out.

"Like you," Jeff replied, smiling gently at the other boy.

Nick blushed again.

"You're adorable when you get embarrassed," Jeff said, leaning in once again to kiss the brunette.

This kiss was more passionate than the last one but they still managed to convey all of their feelings into it.

They had just broken away and smiling shyly at each other again, when David appeared in the alcove

"Sir, your mother requests you," he said, properly addressing Nick, as he always had to do during formal events.

"Of course, David, I'll be right along," he replied, smiling once more at Jeff, and then disappearing off into the ballroom.

"Who is his mother?" Jeff asked, once it was just him and David remaining.

"Why, she's the mistress of this house," David answered, watching curiously as Jeff turned pale.

"So, he's a Duval," he said, half to himself and half for confirmation from David. "Someone who I should hate, yet instead I love unconditionally."

He looked up again to find David gone, and Wes standing in his place.

"It's high time we left," he said, "It's the proper time that it was done."

Still in a slight trance after his meeting with Nick, Jeff nodded drowsily and followed his cousin from the alcove, and back out into the ballroom.

"Are you feeling alright?" Wes asked, regarding Jeff suspiciously.

The blonde nodded.

"Never better," he replied, but his cousin didn't appear convinced.

Sebastian was already whispering an excuse into Lord Duval's ear when they reached him, and the older man wished the three of them a safe journey home and thanked them for attending.

With one last longing look across the room at Nick, Jeff followed his friends out of the door.

"David," Nick prodded his friend to gain his attention. "Who were those three who arrived in masks?" He motioned over to where the men in question were just leaving.

"I do not know the first two," the manservant said, "But the third is the man I saw you with earlier."

"Yes, and who is he?" Nick prompted.

David sighed.

"His name is Jeff, and he is a Sterling; the heir of your enemy."

Nick paled and his mouth dropped open.

"How I could come to love someone who I am supposed to hate?" he wondered, "Yet my love does not lessen with this knowledge."

"Sorry, what is this?" David asked, "Love whom?"

Nick shook his head.

"I'm sorry, David," he said, "But that boy, Jeff Sterling, I met him here today, and…it was like nothing I could ever explain. I love him, David, and yet I'm made to hate him too."

David opened his mouth to speak but a sharp cry of Nick's name from the corridor interrupted them, and they were forced to abandoned their conversation in favour of going to see what was wanted.

"It's late," Thad said, looking up from the window seat at the figure in his doorway, "Why are you here now?"

"I was at a ball in the city," Sebastian said, coming further into the room and closing the door behind him. "I thought that I'd drop by to see you on my way home."

Thad grinned.

"My home is the completely opposite direction to your house," he said, "You just wanted to see me."

"So, you figured me out," Seb smirked, and accepted the other man's indication for him to sit on the window seat as well.

"It wasn't exactly hard," Thad shot back. "Anyway, I'm glad to see you."

"Aren't you always?"

"Of course, but today especially; I am at my wits' end with everything that is going on."

"Like what?" Sebastian asked.

"You know what," Thad jabbed him in the ribs mockingly, "This ridiculous feud! And not a single person in Verona knows when or why or how it even started; the Sterlings and the Duvals are fighting over nothing." He slumped in defeat against Sebastian's side. "I'm supposed to be the ruler of this city; I'm supposed to protect my citizens. Yet I can do nothing of any use to stop this argument."

Sebastian sighed.

"They all respect you," he said, "Everyone does, and they always look to you to lay down the law when they are wronged. You cannot fix everything in this world."

"But I should be able to do something surely!" Thad insisted, "I feel useless."

Sebastian leaned over and softly pressed his lips to the top of the other man's head.

"You're not useless," he said, "And if anyone can right this wrong, it's you."

A/N: Okay, hopefully the other parts will be posted soon :) I hope you enjoyed this :)

Thank you for reading and please leave a review to tell me what you thought :)