<blockquote>He found he could imagine Mercutio's voice, husky and honey-sweet for all that his words would be poison: boyhood friendship and a natural gift for cruelty had given Mercutio a well-honed skill for getting under Tybalt's skin, for finding half-healed wounds to dig his nails into, tearing them open to flaring pain. Even the Mercutio in his head was venomous, every word barbed; he could not imagine him kind.
Tybalt has complicated feelings about Mercutio.
(Budapesti Operettszínház Rómeó és Júlia canon again, hooray.)</blockquote>
