Chapter Text
It was a peaceful afternoon in Verona, at the Montague's house. The boys had, as usual, planned to meet on the week-end to at least pretend to prepare for their upcoming tests. And the boys had, as usual these days, received a text from Romeo telling them that he would not make it. Benvolio and Mercutio needed no further explanation to understand why, as Romeo was the sentimental type and had a known tendency to call love the most ordinary look a girl was to give him. The two friends didn’t mind. They were used to this situation by now and had grown closer over the past years thanks to Romeo’s naive heart.
Seated on the couch, none of them spoke as they tried to force themselves to actually study in Benvolio’s bedroom. After maybe an hour, the regular melody of pages turning and pen writing was cut short when Mercutio dropped his notebook next to himself on the couch.
“Benvolio.”
The blond teenager replied with merely a tilt of his head, inviting his friend to speak his mind.
“I think... I've fallen in love.”
A sentence he heard far too often. Though not so much from Mercutio. He knew how to navigate it by now, despite how he felt hearing this voice saying those bitter sweet words.
“Ah, and which maiden has struck your fancy ?”
Put on the mask and enter the stage. The pain will pass. It always did.
“It’s not a girl.”
Now Benvolio was looking at him, his heart suddenly feeling heavier, though he showed nothing of it. Expressive and always so confident Mercutio was silent. Benvolio knew too well the meaning of his fidgeting, watching as he took his rings on and off his fingers. He was nervous, maybe scared, he thought.
“Is it... Romeo ? Is that what's been troubling you lately ?” he asked, careful with his tone as he put his book down on the coffee table in front of them.
Mercutio shook his head, laughing lightly.
“You think I’m so unwise ?”
“It would have surprised me but... he's got a good heart.”
“Yeah, he does... you're both good boys aren’t you ?”
His teasing smirk was unsure. Benvolio opened his mouth to reassure him, but got no time to do so.
“No Ben, although I mock him for his naive rêveries... The truth is he's too good for me.”
“What are you–”
“It’s Tybalt.”
Benvolio stayed silent for a few seconds, unsure of what he just heard.
“I like him. But I know you can only resent me for that.”
“Mercutio…”
He did resent him. But it wasn’t just because of Tybalt.
“But I was hoping that... maybe you, the kindest soul out there, might be able to... to forgive me ? I don't know…”
Tears pearled at the corner of his green eyes.
“Merc…”
What was there to forgive, he thought. And how could he not when Mercutio looked so anxious. He had no right to resent him.
“It was stupid. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I will not act on it, don't worry.”
One tear fell.
“Hey.”
Benvolio put a hand on his friend's shoulder. There he was, always so supportive.
“I'm sorry !”
“Listen to me !”
He was holding both his arms now, forcing Mercutio to face him. He stared for a moment then started to rub his arms gently. Only one thing mattered, and his own feelings weren’t it. His love never needed to be considered romantic, that’s what he always told himself. A bandage on a wound he didn’t dare to look at, from a fear of having to mend it. What could a bandaid do for an hemorrhagic heart.
“My friend,”
He took one of his hands in his own.
“This is not the treason you think it is.”
A second tear fell, quickly followed by a third. Benvolio didn’t know who was most to blame for this vision he so hated. Was it him or Tybalt ? Either way he himself was part of it, and this thought alone made him sick. He swallowed his pain.
“If you love him, then the only thing I can do is make sure he's good for you. I do have my opinion on Tybalt but I don't... well I don't own your heart. I can merely guard it and help you soothe its pain if needed. Whatever happens, love or hate, no one could make me care for you less. And no one, nothing on this earth and beyond, could make me love you less. Especially not Tybalt Capulet.”
The words he spoke made his throat dry.
He knew Mercutio couldn’t see his forced gentle expression with his tears filled eyes as he spoke those words he probably thought too kind for him. Benvolio pulled the other into a tight embrace that filled him with warmth.
Benvolio, "good Benvolio", had an unspoken responsibility that he knew he had to bear since the day he became Mercutio's closest friend. His happiness and jolly was fragile and faking it through jest brought him no comfort. Benvolio took it upon himself to be its guardian. Be it in sickness or in health. In joy or sadness. In life or death.
A few seconds passed, although it felt like hours, and Mercutio wished it lasted an eternity.
Benvolio pulled back half-heartedly, just enough to see his friend’s face. How he wished to wipe away those tears, to caress his cheeks, detailing his beauty marks, tucking the stray strands of long black hair behind his jeweled ear. To kiss his face, spending too much time on the bridge of his nose and the corner of his eyes. But alas, Benvolio knew better than anyone that, from this moment on, this could be nothing but a fantasy. Another had stolen the heart of the Prince's nephew and he would not let anyone take away this glimpse of future Mercutio was starting to cling to. Not even himself. So he stayed silent, looking at the man he loved most.
Mercutio's lips trembled.
“Thank you... You are indeed a kind soul.”
His soft smile was heartwrenching to look at.
“So are you.”
“I…”
Benvolio knew the words he wanted to say just as well as Mercutio knew his friend didn't believe them. He was far too aware that, to Mercutio, Benvolio seemed to see only the good in him, but Mercutio didn't think of himself as a good man. Nor a man deserving of love, support, happiness... or a future.
“One last thing.”
Mercutio tensed up. Benvolio begged the heavens to cease torturing him.
“Thank you for telling me about this. Thank you for trusting me. It means a lot.”
Mercutio let out a long breath. Maybe God did listen.
“Of course. Although I would rather you don’t talk about this to your cousin. I don’t think he would be able to understand just yet.”
“Of course.”
They looked at each other for a moment. Benvolio felt a warmth in his cheeks and a ting to his heart. Mercutio rested his head on his shoulder, hiding the last of his tears in his neck. How the world could be cruel, Benvolio thought.