How long had things continued to repeat themselves like this?
Antonio sat up in bed, the sun peeking through the slightly gapping curtains, a warm breeze gently drifting through the window and the scent of a summer morning invading his nostrils. He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, and glanced down beside him, knowing full well he was alone in the bed, but definitely not alone in his home.
Beside him, the bed was cool, but not cold, meaning she had not gotten up too long ago. And ‘she’, was the best and worst thing that existed in his life. ________ was one of the few people who succeeded in making him truly angry, furious even. She knew just which buttons to push to make his blood boil, which topics frustrated him, which things to say that made him want to scream and tear his hair out. She was the human personification of punishment for every wrong and evil he ever committed throughout his entire existence.
So, perhaps it was masochistic to love someone who had the ability to make life a living Hell.
Antonio ran his hand over the space where ________ slept ever night, and picked up her picked up her pillow, pressing it to his face and inhaling deeply, the lingering scent of her hair and traces of perfume embedded into the fibres of the pillow, and he closed his eyes. ________ was not only his greatest weakness, but his greatest strength. She had been there for him when no one else was, in times when he needed a friend, a shoulder to lean on, and a hand to hold. She was sweet, funny, and considerate, and he was never want for anything when _______ was around. For every single fight they had, there were two perfect memories that Antonio could conjure of moments he and ________ had shared.
Well, perhaps all that he was really in need of was someone who didn’t anger him so much as she did. Though given he continued to initiate fights as much as she did, he was as much at fault in this relationship as she was, knowing every which way could possibly bring out the worst in her, could bring out the beastly verbal torrent of rage that would crash over him. He could do it. And he would do it. He was just as much to blame.
Antonio put the pillow back in its place and slid out of bed, searching for the remainders of the previous night’s scattered clothing. They did this more frequently than he would care to admit to himself; fights were never physical, but words could cut deeper than all injuries. They had been like this for as long as they had been together, and no doubt, he thought to himself, would be for a long time to come.
He stepped into the hall, and was met with the gentle smell of eggs cooking and a faint trace of orange juice. So many times, Antonio had considered leaving _______, breaking it off, because sometimes he thought that was what would be the best choice. A toxic relationship was not something anyone needed in their life. However, Antonio’s resolve always crumbles. Because he knows all too well that without the rays of happiness she provides him, his life would fall apart. He relied completely on seeing her face every day, holding her in his arms at night, and keeping her by his side forever to keep him going every day.
He leant against the door of the kitchen, and watched like he did most mornings as _______ cooked breakfast over the stove, a tune humming from beneath her soft lips to the radio that sat on the bench next to her. And just like every morning, she had two plates on the bench, one for her, and one for him. In moments like these, all thoughts of breaking it off with ________ disappeared, as they always did, time after time after time, and it made Antonio let out a long sigh.
________ turned and looked over her shoulder, and smiled warmly at him, her rosy cheeks glowing happily like always.
“Good morning, Antonio!”
Antonio blinked slowly, and a small smile graced his features, and he walked over to her, and his hands slid to her waist, and he bent down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss.
“Good morning, my love.”
Antonio couldn’t help it. Their relationship wasn’t ideal, it was not a fairytale. It wasn’t perfect, and it is something people would’ve normally left. But Antonio could put up with the worst, if it meant he was able to still have the best. It was like she had a magic spell over him, that left him completely at her mercy.
He was completely undone by ________ and everything that she was, though smugly, within himself, he knew, that she was left as hopeless and defenseless to him too.