I remember last night clearly. I remember waiting up into the night for hours, waiting for my lover to come home. When he finally he did he was drunk. I asked him if he drove. His reply stung. "Shut up." He said. I flinched. Then, I passed out side to see if our car was there. It was. I tried to tell him that he could have gotten hurt. I tried to tell him to be safer. He didn't listen. He lashed out, his fist connected with my nose, I fell to the floor, with a cry. He ignored me and stomped up the stairs to our room. I dragged my self into a standing position and stumbled to the couch in the living room. I remember falling asleep on the couch that night. It's morning now. As I remember last nights events s few tears slipped down my cheeks. Jaime. My lover. He raised his fist and hit me.
I wake up to the sound of someone in the kitchen. I sit up and awkward get off of the couch, wincing in pain because of my bruise that had blossomed on my face and the fact I had slept on the couch, so my back is killing me. I pad into the kitchen to find Jaime taking an Advil and drinking a glass of water. "Jaime?" I croak. He whips around. When his soft brown eyes land on my face, the glass of water falls from his hand and smashes on the floor. "Vic, I-" He goes to hug me but I flinch, scared he's going to hit me again. "I'm so sorry." He ends his sentance in a whisper. When I don't reply his gorgeous face falls. He finishes cleaning up the broken glass and then walks upstairs. I hear thumping and heavy footsteps, so I climb the stairs to talk to him. When I enter our bedroom there's a suitcase open on the bed and Jaime is in the process of stuffing clothes into it. A sob passes through my lips. "Jaime what are you doing?" I ask him.
"I hit you. You don't want me anymore." He says sadly. "You were afraid of me!"
"I do want you. I'm not afraid of you, I'm afraid of what you did. Your actions." I say, trying to control my tears. Jaime puts down the shirt he's folding and walked sowly towards me, cupping my face in his bass and guitar roughened hands. Wiping away the tears with his thumbs he gazes into my eyes and kisses me deeply. I wrap my arms around his neck as he picks me up and carries me to the bed and laying me down, not breaking the kiss. "I'm so sorry." He whispers against my lips as we kiss, "So fucking sorry." Our fingers lace together perfectly like they always do.
"I love you." I say, breaking the kiss and gazing up at him.
"I love you too." He says softly, dipping his head down to lightly brush his lips over my bruise. "I'm never going to drink or hit you again."
"Thank you." I reply, pecking his soft lips.
