Lately I don’t know what we fighting for

We’ve been so back and forth

She throws the picture frame on the ground in frustration. “Why is everything an argument with you?!”

Daehyun’s eyebrows snap together. “Because you have a ing response for everything!”

The room is in disarray and everything they worked so hard to organize in their tiny apartment is thrown and broken. She wants to break down and cry because lately, that’s all their relationship has been. Fights and arguments and she doesn’t even know what this one is really about. Is it because he’s been coming home late at night? Is it because she’s been overwhelmed with work and classes and research? They were fine this morning. He even kissed her forehead before leaving for work. She even made him breakfast.

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “I don’t even ing care right now...” He bends down to pick up the fragments of vases, of frames, of pieces of their relationships. She’s tired of it and shoves him back with two fingers against his forehead.

He slaps her hand away and she wants nothing more than to scream. “You never finish what you start! You started this and now you’re just ignoring everything!”

His voice drops several octaves, an indication of his annoyance and anger. He shoves her back. “I didn’t start this. I came home tired to you berating me about everything.”

“Oh, so now I can’t talk to you? Do I need an appointment for that too?” she asks with a snarl.

“Maybe if you ing understood, or at least tried-” He’s cut off by her hand against his cheek.

The shove that hits her this time is infinitely harsher. “Don’t touch me,” he growls, voice rumbling in the apartment.

“Oh, so sorry. I forgot how much your face means to you...” she snarls, a low blow.

Daehyun wants to scream for the second time that night. Their relationship isn’t easy. It’s been rocky from the beginning with his job, but they promised to make it work. They promised to try. They promised that they wouldn’t be angry about the little things, but it seemed as though that’s all they fought about now. She stands before him steaming, infuriated. he’d shoved her twice tonight. She’d laid her hands on him. He wants nothing more than to hold her again and whisper ‘i love you,’ but she makes that impossible. They weren’t perfect. It wasn’t supposed to be perfect. She deserves better.

“Why,” she begins, “why can’t we be a normal couple?”

“It comes with the person,” he snaps back. “You knew this. You knew this.”

“I didn’t sign up to be thrown away at a moment’s notice, Jung Daehyun. I signed up for you.”

He stares at her. It isn’t the first time she hit him and when his fingers tangle in her hair, forcing her to bend uncomfortably to adjust, he’s more infuriated than before.

“I try all the time,” she seethes.

“No,” he argues, “You pretend everything is fine, but it never ing is. You think I don’t notice? You’re the worst ing liar. Why let it pile up?” He pisses him off so much. She shouldn’t pretend.

“Because if I don’t pretend it’s fine, I’ll kill myself! I try to put on a smile everyday, but , Daehyun. You make it so hard. You make it so hard to smile and pretend everyday.”

The air around them is stifling and a part of her is already annoyed by it all. Why not just let it crumble? She turns away from him and throws their couple picture on the ground. She’s tired. There’s so many. She wants to break them all.

Daehyun stares at her across from the room. She has her head in her hands and he knows she’s probably crying. Love is hard. It’s not as easy as movies made it seem, but that’s what makes it so worthwhile. Every up and down in their time together made it all worth it.

“Baby,” he cooes. “Please don’t cry.”

But that only makes her cry harder because this is the Daehyun she fell in love with. The one with the silky voice. Not the one that growled and snarled. He stands up with a sigh and walks over to her, stepping over the broken pieces of everything. He sits next to her and wraps his arm around her.

“Baby, please don’t cry.” He repeats, because he’s not quite sure what else to say. She sighs against his arms, turning so her face is nuzzled against his neck. His breath hitches when her lips touch his skin. They’ll get through it.

“How many times this week?” he asks, his voice that soft velvety texture she loves.

“Six,” she answers, knowing what he means. It’s only Wednesday and they’d nearly ripped out each other’s throats six times.