As Tybalt struck Mercutio with his rapier, he pulled him close, pushing Romeo off to the side and whispering a short phrase that even with its simplicity, still meant so much.
"I always loved you."
Mercutio looked into Tybalt's eyes and gasped. The look of utter sincerity and regret that filled the Capulet's eyes, paired with the blood Mercutio felt beginning to ooze out of his fresh wound, blocked any coherent thought from forming in his mind. Had it been under different circumstances, Mercutio may have thought about how nice it felt to be that close to Tybalt, or commented on Tybalt's eyes being clear and unguarded enough to read him like a book for the first time ever. He might have smiled, or smirked, or perhaps even said it back. But not this time. No, not with Tybalt's blade plunged into his abdomen.
Mercutio had never really considered what they had had to be love, anyway. But if he had really thought about it, he might have realized that they probably wouldn't have gone on as long as they had if it was anything else. Fun only lasts for so long, after all. If they hadn't been in love, how could Mercutio have been able to understand what Romeo and Juliet had been going through so well? He had never said anything, never let anything show, but he supposed he had always silently just understood. Whenever Romeo would complain about his troubles, Mercutio had been able to connect with his friend's difficulties. His and Tybalt's relationship was all too similar to Romeo and Juliet's, but the two boys had known the struggle for far longer, being older and having known each other for a greater period of time.
This final time they fought had gone too far, and they both knew it. Tybalt had meant what he had said, and only wished he could hear the words spoken to him in return. He had never considered himself a lover, always a fighter, but when Mercutio had stepped into his life everything had changed. If only they were not of rival clans… If only they were not of the same sex… Tybalt had found himself considering all the if's much more often lately, even with how pointless he knew it was. This pointlessness was only proven more as he stared into Mercutio's eyes as Mercutio stared back. He watched the light slowly fade from Mercutio's eyes, feeling his heart wither away. Tybalt put on his first public display of affection, ignoring everyone that was staring at the scene he and Mercutio had caused, by placing his lips against Mercutio's paling cheek. He saw his partner's lip quivering, looking like he wanted to say something. After a moment, Tybalt's only wish was granted.
"I love you."
And even as he saw the life completely leave Mercutio's eyes as he shoved him off his rapier and onto the ground (solely to keep up appearances), Tybalt felt something flutter deep inside him.
Because even though the only person he had ever been even remotely close to had just died on his hands, he knew Mercutio had loved him.
Tybalt would later laugh with his 'friends' about the matter, play Mercutio off as some weak and meaningless loser, but he would go home and mourn. Beg for another chance. Wish things had been different. Pray for death to take him, as well. But he would always know it had to be this way.
FIN.
