One day, I woke up early and found that I couldn't go back to sleep. So, I did what I always do in that situation: listen to my iPod. While doing so, the song Little Moments by Brad Paisley came on, and seeing as I've been obsessing over RetJ lately (more specifically: Benvolio/la Muette), it inspired me to write this fanfic. So, enjoy this pointless piece of fluff!

Disclaimer: Romeo et Juliette belongs to Gerard Presgurvic and Little Moments belongs to Brad Paisley (but I bet you already knew that). So, yeah, I own nothing. -.-


It had been two months since tragedy struck Verona, when Romeo and Juliette had been found lying in their own blood. And during all that time, Benvolio had not laughed once. Not at all through his short relationship with Sofia, the blonde Capulet servant he had been seeing before the incident had occurred, or any other flings that he had.

No, not once did he laugh, until he found himself spending more and more time with a certain mute Capulet, that is.

He could not recall exactly when the two had begun to seek the other's company, but it was quite welcomed. She, as it were, was Juliette's personal servant (well, technically, she worked under the Nurse, but that's beside the point), and thus was her closest friend, maybe even the sister she never had. Benvolio, meanwhile, had been Romeo's cousin; leaving him and Lady Montague as the only family he had left, unless he counted Mercutio, whom Benvolio saw as the annoying, but lovable brother. Perhaps it was their closeness to the victims that made them seek comfort from once another, someone who would surely understand the pain they had both endured.

At any rate, in the first few weeks of their "relationship" (though they both did not think of it as such), la Muette had invited him over to her house for some tea and, maybe, some cake. While the invitation seemed to have come from nowhere, Benvolio welcomed it nonetheless.

At first, all was well. They drank their tea as the cake baked and chatted (well, he spoke and she signed. He had begun to understand her silent language quite well) and everything seemed to be progressing comfortably. That is, until thick clouds of black smoke poured in through the kitchen.

In a flash, la Muette was up on her feet, rushing over to the source of the smoke, Benvolio hot on her heels. Upon spotting the small fire coming from the oven, Benvolio hastily got to work putting it out, la Muette by his side, helping him.

It took ten minutes to put out, and by then the cake was beyond ruined. While Benvolio could've cared less about whether or not how the cake turned out, la Muette was furious. She began to sign angrily at the oven, cursing it for what it had done and herself for losing track of the time.

Seeing her like this, angry with her face nearly as red as her hair, brought a smile to Benvolio's face. It was not the first time she had roused such a reaction from him, either. Something about the way she looked when she got angry, or even excited over something, made his lips twitch. Perhaps it was he thought she looked…cute when she did? Yes, that was it.

However, after a few minutes of silent rage, la Muette turned to him and quickly began to sign an apology to him, saying how it was the first time she had attempted to bake a cake and how it was stupid of her to forget how long she had it baking, and then, for some reason (perhaps stress), tears started to well up in her eyes. Whether they were tears of true sadness or merely frustration, Benvolio could not tell, but that didn't stop him from pulling her into his arms for comfort.

She accepted his comfort gratefully and gradually became calm. And then something…odd happened. A familiar feeling stirred in the back of Benvolio's throat, a feeling he had not felt in two whole months.

He wanted to laugh.

And, not yet completely used to the feeling after such a long time, did. Why he did, he could not say, but it felt good. When la Muette realized that he was, her face once again became red, but instead of signing him lord knows how many curses, she merely playfully slapped his chest and silently laughed with him.

And that was the first time Benvolio laughed since the death of the city's two famous lovers.


Not a week after the cake incident, Benvolio decided to return the favor and invited la Muette to his place, for the same reason she had invited him, tea. She approved on the condition that they did not have any cake with it.

Not ten minutes after walking through his front door, she tripped over one of his shoes and broke a vase his aunt had given him on his sixteenth birthday. Once again, her face went red as she quickly signed an apology, but he merely shook his head and laughed.

"Don't worry! It's my fault; I should've put my shoe somewhere else, where people couldn't trip on them." He then smiled widely. "Besides, I've always hated that thing."

She gave him a blank stare, which slowly turned into a look of relief as she smiled up at him. It was then that Benvolio decided she looked quite adorable with the remains of a flush on her face, coupled with a smile.


Another month later, la Muette decided she wanted to take a trip to a nearby city. What brought this on, Benvolio didn't know, but that did not stop him from agreeing to go with her. Getting away from the city, if only for a while, would most likely do them both some good.

Unfortunately, la Muette, as it turned out, had a rather poor sense of direction, and, seeing as she was in charge of where they went, they quickly became lost.

At first, Benvolio was frustrated at this, but hid it well as he tried to help them get back on track. Along the way, they somehow found themselves holding hands. Benvolio found this to be odd, but la Muette did not object to it, so he did nothing. And he soon found he quite liked her hand in his.

So, even though they never got to where they had originally wanted to go, Benvolio found himself thinking that it was the best trip he had ever taken.


After the trip, the two young adults found themselves spending more and more time together and usually because they would lose track of the time.

One such occasion happened two weeks after their journey outside Verona. He had again invited la Muette over for tea, and after the beverages were gone, they found themselves sitting on his couch in front of his fireplace, simply enjoying each other's company. Part of the way through, la Muette had come to lean against him (more specifically, his right shoulder) and began to read.

While she did so, Benvolio contemplated the redhead next to him. She was far from perfect, that much was true, but he preferred it that way. He found perfection to be boring. Sofia had been seemingly perfect, for example, and while that was what first attracted him to her, in the long run did not suit him well.

All of la Muette's imperfections were what made her who she was. And they all, when added together, were part of the reason why he felt the way he did towards her.
And just how did he feel, he couldn't help but wonder. He cared for her greatly, that much was for sure, but just how much?

It was then he was pulled out of his thoughts when his right arm started to tingle. He realized then that it must have fallen asleep. His first reaction was to move it, but he stopped himself when he saw the reason why.

La Muette had fallen asleep. He blinked in surprise and looked outside to see that the sun had begun to set. Had time really gone by so quickly? Well, then, he should probably wake her, shouldn't he?

But he couldn't bring himself to do so. Something about the way she looked as she slept…she looked peaceful. Had he been younger and more naïve, he might have claimed she looked like an angel. He just couldn't wake her, not yet at any rate.

And as he continued to look down at her as she slept, Benvolio smiled. For it was then that he realized that he loved la Muette.


When she steals my heart again and doesn't even know it/Yeah I live for little moments like that…

-Brad Paisley