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Toxic
She was toxic and I was intoxicated.
That is pretty much the statement I'd use to describe our relationship. We couldn't go one day without fighting with one another, whether it be over something significant or insignificant.
"I can't believe you would do this! What the hell's the matter with you?!" I screamed at her, my arms flailing violently in the air.
"You're going about this all wrong! Why do you have to be so damn sensitive?!" She yelled right back at me, a furious tint to her brown eyes.
We had been fighting for a good ten minutes already, both of our egos and stubbornness keeping us from backing down.
"Why do you have to be so damn insensitive?!"
"I was trying to have fun!"
"Is it fun to hurt one of the only people who continue to support you?!"
My question seemed to have finally silenced her insensate screaming. The tension that was high in the air dropped slowly.
"Where's you heart, Cabello?"
The arguments matches where we would only continuously shriek and wail at each other were our best ones. I say 'best' in a way to describe the most peaceful ones, as there were times where our quarrels would lead to physicality. Where we'd be throwing literal punches at each other.
"You're a fucking idiot." I spoke, shaking my head at my girlfriend's stupid antics.
"What the fuck did you just call me?" She seethed, turning around on me quick to face me fully.
"What- can't hear now too?" I taunted, enjoying the way the Cuban continued to get even more angrier each time I opened my mouth.
