Veronian Enchantment

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Benvolio was in shock, his hands trembled. "W-what?" His voice splintered like shards of glass. "You heard Lady Montague correctly." Boomed Lord Montague. Benvolio brushed back his hair, tears threatening to form. "I-I can't." He replied shakily, panic and fear screaming at him to run or stay quiet. "What did you say?" Hissed lady Montague, her tone as sharp as a knife and as cold as ice. "I don't think I understood you. Your a Montague, and you will do as we say." A sudden rage filled Benvolio, emotions far too fierce and too strong. "No." Benvolio said, a bit louder, his voice trembling. "You aren't my parents, and you can't sell me off like, like!!" His voice began to elevate with each word. "Like some whore!" Benvolio yelled, stomping his foot down. Lord Montague stepped forward, rage burning in his eyes. "Don't you dare raise your voice at us, you discourteous spoiled brat." The large hand quickly slashed through the air as Benvolio was backhanded. Benvolio let out a gasp as he lost his balance, the hit sending his head reeling and his face temporarily numb. His vision blurred with tears as he slowly rose a hand to his face. "Your parents have died long ago Benvolio, we are your guardians and we do as we please." Hissed lady Montague. "You uphold a responsibly of keeping the Montague name and you will accomplish it correctly." Her heels clicking as she stepped forward as well. Her anger making her comparable to a she-devil with pointed heels and a pitchfork. Benvolio bit back a sob as he shakily stood up and ran. He knew better than to talk back, after all he was supposed to be the 'good boy' of the family after all. His responsibility triumphed over his wants. Benvolio felt as if this was his fault as well, as silly as it sounded. Regret stabbed through him, oh why did he dance with the prince? He should have just stayed with Tybalt. Romeo and Mercutio quickly ran into Benvolio, alerted by the yelling they had gone to investigate. Benvolio couldn't hold back the tears that slid down his face, his face now starting to ache with pain. "Benvolio what...what happened?" Asked Mercutio. Romeo tried to get a good look at Benvolio's hidden face, but with the heavy flinching it was nearly impossible. "I-I need to le-leave." Whimpered Benvolio, furious that the heads of the house tried to sell him off and hurt that he was so violently slapped. The lord hadn't even removed his family ring, Benvolio was almost certain that the Montague crest would be stamped on his cheek with a bruise as ink. Romeo stayed silent for a moment, before finally speaking. "Go to Tybalt, if you're in an argument with my parents then I'm sure Tybalt wouldn't mind housing you for a few days. It's not like they can spy there either." Benvolio wanted to laugh at that, what if Tybalt didn't want to see him anymore? Sure they shared a dance, after the prince fiasco. Tybalt could easily turn him away, hurt or disgusted by his invitation to the prince. Romeo and Mercutio seemed to ignore his discomfort as they began to take him away from the mansion and towards Capulet territory. Regret, fear and hurt swirled in Benvolio's mind, tears still silently dripping down and his body shaking. Mercutio supported him, leading and holding on to him tightly. "Benvolio can you make it to Tybalt's place from here? We don't wish to raise anymore trouble back at home." Benvolio gave a shaky nod, tightly hugging Romeo and Mercutio before turning to the dark streets and searching for Tybalt's address with tear-clouded eyes. Cautiously he walked up to Tybalt's door, eyes glancing nervously to the door number. He weakly rapped his knuckles against the wood, fear spiking up as he was forced to wait for a reaction. The door creaked open slowly, narrowed suspicious eyes widened with surprise as Tybalt realized that Benvolio was at his doorstep. "Benvolio what are you...?" Benvolio cautiously looked up, a fresh wave of tears spilling over his cheekbones and his feverish, aching cheek slightly burning at the salty water. Suddenly, cool fingertips brushed across the tender skin. Yellow eyes wide in shock and confusion. "I-I..." Whimpered Benvolio, struggling to explain his ridiculous situation. A strong urge to apologize to Tybalt flashed in Benvolio's thoughts, but that was washed away as Tybalt opened his door and notioned for Benvolio to come in. Benvolio couldn't even voice his gratitude, his only reaction being to hug Tybalt. Tybalt froze for a second, arms slightly lifted in surprise before he awkwardly hugged Benvolio back. After their awkward hug, Tybalt led Benvolio to his sofa. "Benvolio...who did this?" Tybalt tried to ask gently, but the tremors in his voice and how Tybalt clenched his fists were clear signs that he was furious at the situation. Benvolio turned away, unsure if he should tell Tybalt. But with the way Tybalt looked so earnestly and how gently he brushed away the hair from Benvolio's face it was hard not to give in. "Lord Montague." Benvolio finally gave out, too exhausted to give up a good fight. Tybalt snarled "Sick bastard." Benvolio gave a weak smile to Tybalt "I agree..." Tybalt's anger seemed to dissipate with Benvolio's response. "You look exhausted kitten, don't tell me you walked here alone." "Romeo and Mercutio accompanied me to the exit of the Montague residence....I walked the rest alone." Tybalt squeezed Benvolio's hand. "Why the hell didn't they accompany you here? Thats a long walk, dangerous at this hour and even more so when a sick basta-" Benvolio quickly cut Tybalt off "They didn't want me to get in more trouble, it gave me a cover of sorts.." Tybalt huffed, obviously not happy that Benvolio was left alone in such a fragile state. "...Why was the fuck so displeased with you anyway?" Tybalt questioned, his eyes softening. "..." Benvolio stayed silent, a bitter feeling uncurling in his chest. "...They....T-They.." Benvolio's voice cracked slightly, the urge to cry returning. Tybalt became alarmed at the sound "W-wait Benvolio forget it! Er, perhaps it was not the....wisest of topics." Tybalt's cheeks becoming slightly dusted with pink. "I-I'm sorry" Whispered Benvolio, an apology felt right at the moment. Tybalt let out a noise of discomfort, pulling the other into a tight hug. The squeeze was a bit strong but Benvolio relished in the comfort. A growl escaped Tybalt's lips. "Stop it. Stop...being sad." the grip becoming a little tighter. Benvolio couldn't hold back the watery laugh, leaning into the embrace. "Thank you Tybalt." Both were far too tired to even discuss who was sleeping where. Lazily, they laid down next to each other. Benvolio yawned a goodnight to Tybalt before closing his eyes, Tybalt hummed gently in response, wrapping his arms around Benvolio and tucking him under his chin. Benvolio felt far too warm to wake up, fuck anything that needed his attention. "Good morning kitten." muttered Tybalt, pulling away slightly from Benvolio. Benvolio didn't even respond, only groaning and squeezing his eyes shut. "And here I thought you were a morning person." grinned Tybalt. Benvolio stuck his tongue out at him, getting up in sync with Tybalt. After promises of coffee, Benvolio was convinced not to go back to bed. Thank god for mouthwash, praised Benvolio as he yawned with refreshing breath. He caught a glance at his face, only to wish he hadn't. Red and purple stained his swollen cheek, the faint outline of the Montague crest imprinted on the tender skin. "It's not that bad, you look fine." Tybalt commented after he caught Benvolio staring at his reflection with such a melancholy expression on his face. "...I have coffee?" Benvolio let a small smile rise on his features, for such a prickly strong warrior...Tybalt was pretty dorkishly cute. Taking a sip of his coffee he sat next to Tybalt, feeling at peace and even happy here in the Capulet's apartment. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" Tybalt asked, worry apparent in his features. "I suppose....Lord and Lady Montague want me to...'engage in a relationship' with Prince Paris." Tybalt nearly spat out his drink, his expressions almost comical. "...then what happened?" He asked once he regained his cool. "I didn't want to, I was angry and because I refused I got punished." Benvolio stated, a bit nervous that Tybalt would ask why he rejected the Prince. Tybalt looked into his drink, looking pensive and possibly still processing what this meant for Benvolio. "I'll be fine, I just...didn't want to be home. I'm sorry that I intrute-" "Don't be." Tybalt looked away from his coffee, his gaze intense. "I want to help you Benvolio." "Tybalt...." Benvolio said softly, at a loss for words at how sincere the other was. "Let me protect you." The raven-haired swordsman continued, holding Benvolio's hand. Ben couldn't tear his eyes away, his heart fluttered and his cheeks blushed. "Thank you." Benvolio replied, his voice shaky and gentle. They were about to scoot closer when Tybalt nearly spilled his coffee, they both laughed it off and finished their breakfast. They were in no rush to do anything today, they curled up on the sofa simply enjoying the other's presence. Everything was tranquil and still until Tybalt's stomach growled loudly. "Is the king of cats hungry?" Benvolio asked, a sing song tone to his words causing Tybalt to blush. "I can make you something you know." "Ben that really isn't necessary, honestly you're my guest I should be-" "Hush, it's the least I could do for you." Benvolio poked the tip of Tybalt's nose before heading off to the kitchen. "Don't tell me you cook as well? My my a dancer, artist and cook? Your one hell of a catch." Tybalt commented, the lightheartedness didn't reach his eyes though....his eyes held a much deeper emotion, an emotion that clouded the mind and brought joy and passion. The same emotion Benvolio had been churning in his head for days, could it have been? Love? Benvolio quickly skidded away from that train of thought, there was no way Tybalt could ever feel what Benvolio did. Tybalt was just....too amazing for Benvolio. He began to heat up the pan, hoping that Tybalt would enjoy his cooking. The tan boy didn't miss how Tybalt watched him with interest, for the most part he ignored him and focused at the task at hand. He was in the middle of sprinkling salt when Tybalt rested his chin on top of Benvolio's head, clearly bored or just wanting attention. "I see why they call you king of cats." "Oh? Entertain me." "You certainly act like one for starters." "Meow~" He replied, flicking his hand like a cat would. Benvolio snorted and served Tybalt his meal. Tybalt went to grab some silverware when suddenly he dropped a knife and cursed. "Tybalt are you alright?" Benvolio went over to Tybalt, cautiously looking. "Just a cut." He replied, feeling the small cut on his thumb. "Wash it off." Benvolio swiftly grabbed Tybalt's wrist about to put the finger under some cold water when Tybalt stopped him. "Kiss it better?" Tybalt joked about to pull away his hand when Benvolio finally decided to entertain the stupid catboy, he pecked the finger then looked up at Tybalt. "Better?" The king of cats blushed "Much better." He grinned, amber eyes glittering with amusement as he finally went to eat the fish Benvolio so graciously cooked for him. "Mm 'tis good." Tybalt complemented, food muffling his voice. Benvolio softly laughed "Swallow your food Tybalt, it be terrible if my 'protector' choked on some fish." Benvolio teased, Tybalt smiled at that too, obeying Benvolio's request. "Oh what would you do without me?" "I haven't the slightest idea." There was some truth to that answer, Benvolio found himself deeper and deeper in love with the swordsman. Benvolio pondered if Tybalt would at least consider dating him, maybe Benvolio wasn't as great at fighting but he was kind, he could be good to Tybalt. Oh how Benvolio would relish Tybalt with feather-kisses, food and anything Tybalt wanted. He yearned for Tybalt to kiss him, looking at those lips weren't enough to satisfy the want that Benvolio had. "-hank you for the meal Benvolio." Tybalt purred out smoothly. Benvolio blushed, embarrassed that he was caught off guard. "Oh! It was my pleasure Tybalt.." Tybalt cleaned the mess and leftovers Benvolio left from cooking as Ben laid back onto the sofa. Tybalt came back with some ice and cream. "What's that for?" Questioned Benvolio. "You." Tybalt replied, pecking Benvolio's cheek. Benvolio swore that he imagined that. "Don't look so surprised kitten, how could I not help you if you helped me with such a simple cut?" Tybalt dabbed some cream on Benvolio's cheek, wincing slightly at Benvolio's soft hisses of pain. "There..." "Thank you Tybalt." Benvolio wished to remember the feeling of Tybalt's warm lips pressed against his bruised cheek. Tybalt seemed slightly forlorn when he glanced at Benvolio, wistful even. It was nighttime when Tybalt began to act odd, shifting uncomfortably and not changing into his night clothes. "Tybalt is something wrong?" Worry painting Benvolio's expression and mind. Tybalt only smiled elegiacally, softly cupping Benvolio's injured cheek. "I am fine kitten, go to bed I'll join you soon." Benvolio cautiously nodded and hesitantly headed to bed, laying down and waiting for Tybalt to arrive. Benvolio began to drift off, faintly aware of the lips pressed to his forehead and the sound of footsteps walking away. Benvolio realized that Tybalt left, he waited...maybe he just went to the kitchen to check on something. He waited for Tybalt to crawl in but the familiar warmth never arrived. Benvolio felt his stomach drop, a bad feeling enveloping in Benvolio's chest. He got up and began to look for Tybalt, anxiety bubbling in his chest. He searched the hallways, then outside in the allies, panic clawing at his stomach as none of his searching found the black haired swordsman. He quickly walked up to the guard near the complex "Sir, please I'm searching for Tybalt Capulet. Dark haired-" "That fool? He was off with his sword at hand and ready to duel the prince." Benvolio's fears worsened, he began to sprint towards the palace. He couldn't let Tybalt get hurt, especially because of him. Two guards stood by the door, stoic and cold. Benvolio tried to push past them, his fingertips brushed passed the brass handle before he was pushed away. "Please!" He cried to them, terror and panic seized through him. "If I don't stop this duel someone will die!" Benvolio wailed, trying to reach for the handle. The guards froze at the mention of death, giving Benvolio the chance to burst through the door. Prince Paris and Tybalt were engaged in battle, sweat dribbling down their skin and scratches bright red. The prince grinned as he was able to knock Tybalt's sword away, aiming to slash at his open chest. For Benvolio time slowed down, he felt his iris' shrink and the scream slowly tear from his throat as he ran towards Tybalt. Shutting his eyes tightly as he felt himself crash against Tybalt's torso, the sound of fabric being ripped rang in his ears, the long drawn out sting of pain spreading across Benvolio's side was enough to make him cry out in pain as he fell to the ground. Tears escaped his eyes but Benvolio felt numb, he stared off into the distance, satisfied that he was able to save Tybalt from the bloody demise. He felt warm blood ooze out his side for a few seconds before a scream pierced the still air. It was always calm before the storm. Shaky hands turned Benvolio on his back, it was Tybalt. Those gorgeous amber eyes that Benvolio adored were wide with shock and brimming with tears. "Why?" Those velvety lips whispered. Benvolio softly brought a hand to Tybalt's face, wishing to touch, to feel the skin for which he yearned for. Tybalt complied, leaning into Benvolio's touch as tears cascaded down his face. Benvolio gave a small smile, content that Tybalt would live to see another day. "Because...I love you Tybalt." Benvolio replied, a weight lifting off his chest. He began to cry as well, sorrowful that he could not stay with Tybalt. Tybalt let out a sob, body shaking as he leaned down and kissed Benvolio. Hot tears fell onto Benvolio's cheeks from Tybalt's grieving, Benvolio shut his eyes, wanting to remember Tybalt's touch for eternity. Soon he felt himself slipping from reality, his mind only focused on the swordsman that he loves, the one that he danced, ate with and the one who's eyes glittered like the sparkling stars and smile was brighter than the afternoon sun: Tybalt.

End of chapter 3