The Fight - Tolerance Is A Virtue (by Missy)

            You lie staring out of the window opposite the bed, watching the clouds swirl round the moon high in the black sky. It was a cold night and a bitter wind blew through the silent, empty street below your flat. Your heart sank as you remembered the argument you'd just had with the man who now lay sleeping next to you. Tonight the world was reminiscent of how you felt…cold, bitter, empty, distant. The tension had been building up over the past few weeks, but no matter how much you'd tried to prepare yourself for the inevitable eruption, it always seemed to take you unaware.
          You'd had these fights before - you're relationship had always been a fiery one. Why then did the brutality of his anger always shock you? Of course you knew of his past; the things he'd seen, the pain he'd had to persevere and endure, the torment he'd suffered watching his best friend slowly fade away. Yet even you could never fully comprehend the pain and insecurity he carried around with him day after day, night after night. It was his inability to express any other emotion, except anger, that tore you both apart again and again. Some thoughts were too deep for words, and so he'd be left to vent his frustrations on those he loved. But love him you did, and so you stayed together.
           Your one mistake of the night had been to push him away when he most needed you. You'd tried to be as patient as possible with him, but his rage had finally got the better of him and you'd been the one to lash out. He'd arrived home drunk, angry, and, due to the alcohol, aroused. Foul that he hadn't called to say he would be late, you were instinctively cold and distant. Ignoring him as he pushed you up against the table, trying to verbally seduce you, you hadn't responded. "What's the matter?" he'd mocked, "Don't you want to play?" Running his hands over your hips he'd pushed his pelvis hard against you, his obvious erection digging into the small of your back. Refusing to succumb to his charms, you'd pushed him away saying "Not now, James. Not when you're like this". It was then that all hell had broke lose. It ended the way most of your arguments always ended, the both of you in tears, James asking for forgiveness. Now, hours later, you lie in his arms in the dead of the night, the whole episode playing over and over again in your mind. You hated the way he was with you when he was drunk, yet he was so gentle with you at other times. Sensitivity was one of his strong points. Expressing his love for you in words was one of his weakest. Still, all you ever needed to hear from him was there in his eyes when he smiled at you. It was something silent. Something unsaid. Eyes that had seen enough heartache to last a lifetime. He came across as a hard man - difficult to penetrate and understand, let alone live with. But you knew the truth. He could be the most romantic and thoughtful man in the world, and it was for that reason you put up with his faults. It was for that reason you loved him.
          Gently you feel him stir next to you and you turn to face him. Kissing you softly, he pulls you towards him, snuggling up to you under the duvet. Holding you close. "I love you, he suddenly whispers, his eyes still closed. You open your eyes and slowly smile. It was the first time he'd ever told you.