I'm done.

Two words. I am done. Or even we're through. We are through. We are done. Over. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Yet again I lie in his arms and wait for day to break so I can escape to work. It isn't the same, not since our last fight and before that fight, another fight, and before that another. All fingers pointed at me and I'm done. His hugs do not break the silence and speed up my heart. His smile doesn't capture my breath. Instead it has me hissing and sighing. Shaking my head.

How can he just lay here? Lay there as if nothing happened? As if hours ago he hadn't cursed my existence, or said he didn't say what he said, or meant what he said, when it was recorded word for word in my head.

"I didn't call you that! What the hell are you saying Hae? Now I'm a liar."

"You just called me a and said you'll never speak to me again."

He walked upstairs angrily. I stayed to sit in the living room. This home we have, this apartment we share together is now bitter. It's bitter because I should have known. He's so many words and thoughts and different points of view jumbled together and I'm mixed feelings and uncontrollable thoughts. We shouldn't have lasted 5 years. We shouldn't have.

And yet he's laying in bed, arms wrapped tightly around my waist and I'm seething with hate. He never apologized. I knew it because this was a routine. We scream, we hiss, we bark and in the end I apologize. I break myself down to soothe the pain of his aches. How much longer-

"Hae?"

We lay cuddled, back to stomach and I hide my face in the pillow. I don't want him to see me cry. To see how ing bitter I feel. Why can't the man I love be the man I admire? There's nothing admirable of an inflated pride.

"Yes?" I manage to speak. It's rough and I swallow multiple times to hold back the tears.

"About earlier...."

His voice trails off. Here it is. The ending of where he blames me for his burdens, his anger, the reason he lashes out.

"Whatever I may have said, don't take it to heart. You know I don't mean it."

Oh. Did I mention there's a speech before the ending? Every failed relationship has one.

"It's just that you upset me sometimes. I tell you over and over of how I am and you still push those buttons."

You. I flinch in his arms. I don't mean to, but being the object of someone's hatred can do you in a few times. It isn't fear I'm feeling. It was never fear. I'm simply a child unwilling to be scolded for something I know I didn't do, or mean to do. But the child in me has had enough. Has beared enough where he puts me down and I'm forced to light up only for him.

"You do mean it." I reply. It catches him off guard, the way his breath catches in his throat. The mouse has captured the lion this time.

"You always do. Five years Hyukjae. Five years of hearing you tell me I'm wrong and that I'm putting you down."

His arms slip away, choosing to hug himself. Defend himself from what's coming and it is now that I fear.

"We can't do this. We can't keep running in circles where you say something mean and hurtful and I give in so you aren't hurt too. We can't do this." I repeat. I can feel his harsh breathing on the back of my neck, sizzling it's way into my bones.

"So what are you saying Donghae." The voice is darker, deeper than the ocean and I whimper. This, this is the side of Hyukjae I am terrified of, the reason why I accept his anger and tuck away my own. It is not Hyukjae. It is him.

"I-I'm saying we should b-breakup." I stutter upon a few words. Instead of bitter I taste copper floating against my tongue and realize that I am currently laying on the floor with a busted lip. I haven't tasted this in some time so it takes a moment for me to seek him in the darkness and find piercing eyes gazing at me.

"Have it your ing way then." I wait for the second punch, or the third, or fourth. He moves like lightning so I cannot tell of which it was, but when I open my eyes again I am still sitting on the floor with a bruised lip and he is gone.

When he returns hours later, he bears a smile and a box of donuts consisting of two glazed, one chocolate, two strawberry sprinkles, and one pumpkin. My lip is swollen and crusted over with blood, but he doesn't see it so I smile back.

I did say this was a routine.

A/N: In case you don't get it: Hyukjae has D.I.D or more well known as Multiple Personality Disorder.