For the sake of the story Kaname can see. And is a bombastic prick

The point of this piece is to point out how domestic abuse is often smoothed over by both parties to avoid conflict. They think it's normal and are victims of their own delusions

'God, this place is so pretentious,' Gin muttered. 'I thought you said we were going to a bar, Kaname.'

'It is a bar,' I said calmly, easing through the crowd to find a table that was directly opposite the stage. 'They serve alcohol, don't they?'

'It's a college bar. That means they only serve the watered-down piss because they don't want to be sued for inebriating some underaged idiot.'

I knew Gin was going to complain the whole way through this. But I wasn't going alone. Once I heard he would be performing, I had to attend. I hadn't seen him in months. Not because I couldn't. Because he wouldn't.

I had to know. I had to know why it ended the way it did. I thought we understood each other. I'd made myself clear and it really felt like he finally got it. Except he hadn't.

Two days later, all his stuff was gone. I couldn't reach him on his cell. His friends refused to tell me where he was and even blocked my number. And to boot, the police showed up at our place with a restraining order from him. I was pissed.

I had a lead now. I knew where he was. I couldn't confront him here. But as soon as he got off that stage, we were going to sit down for a nice, long chat alone. He needed to know how I felt. He needed to know the agony I had been feeling ever since he cut me off.

'What's with the stage?' Gin had returned from the bar with a mug of something.

'It's some open poetry place,' I sighed, tapping a finger impatiently. 'Students can come up and spew nonsensical bullshit as long as it rhymes.'

'Someone's not in a good mood.' Gin sipped his drink and winced. 'Fuck, I knew I should've stuck to two shots…'

I ignored him and scanned the crowd. It wasn't packed which I was grateful for. Where was he?

I stopped breathing. There he was. He was frowning, concentrating on a piece of paper as he mouthed off what was written on it. But even that frown couldn't mar his lovely features. That delicate brow, those high cheeks stamped with his promiscuous tattoo, those soft, full lips…

'HEY!' Gin whined as I grabbed his drink and took a swig. It was strong but it didn't phase me. I'd found my target.

Gin followed my gaze and raised an eyebrow. 'I thought you guys were over.'

'What gave you that idea?'

'I don't think lovers file restraining orders against each other.'

I gave him a sideways glare. I hadn't told anyone but it made sense for Gin to know. After all, his partner was head of the police department. Damn you, Aizen…

'So what's the plan?'

'I'm going to talk to him.'

Gin almost choked on his drink. 'Hate to break it to ya, but I don't think he'll want to. Not after you-'

'If I wanted your advice I would've asked for it,' I bit out, shutting him down. I went back to focusing on my lover and realized he was staring back.

He was clutching his paper tightly. So he remembered. Good. This was going to make it a lot easier.

He quickly went back to his paper. His hands were visibly shaking. Someone standing next to him, a redhead, placed a hand over his and squeezed. I held back a snarl. How dare they touch him.

He smiled. He never smiled at me like that. I felt a fire slowly being stoked in my gut. I clenched my hands together.

Patience. Patience. You will not revoke your dignity for jealousy. He knows what's coming. You just have to bide your time.

He was now whispering into someone's ear. A short woman with a clipboard in her hand. She frowned a little, glanced at her clipboard and finally nodded. He looked relieved. What was he doing?

'So what are you going to say to him?' Gin asked casually. He still didn't get the hint that he was just a prop. I didn't want to interact with him.

'Whatever the hell I please,' I uttered.

Gin clicked his tongue. 'And you wondered why everything went downhill from there.'

'If you're so critical of my personal life, why are you friends with me?'

Gin grinned. 'Who said we were friends? It's just entertaining to see people fuck up their lives.'

Before I could retort, the screech of a mike echoed in the dingy basement bar.

'Excuse me, can I have your attention, please? Hi, everyone.' It was the dark-haired girl with the clipboard. 'We're going to shuffle tonight's program around a bit. We're starting with a performance by Shuuhei Hisagi. He's a biochemistry major at Shino University but has a soft spot for poetry. He's decided to share a piece he'd written recently. It's his first so let's all be very supportive. It's a short free verse poem called "You Said".'

Everyone clapped enthusiastically. I gave a half-hearted one so I didn't stand out. Damn Gin made a show of clapping loudly until my meek lover took the stage.

He was wearing his long-sleeved sweater. The one that stretched way past his hands and opened up wide at his shoulders. It was my favorite since it showed off his collarbones and gave me an opportunity to bite them.

He gazed at everyone, taking in the people. He didn't linger on me which was disappointing. I wanted him to acknowledge my presence and feel it. He closed his eyes for a moment.

'You said,' he started, his voice husky and apathic. 'That it would never happen. That you would never raise your hand except in tenderness.'

I rolled my eyes. Of course he was going to write a piece on our relationship. He wanted to play the pity card. How childish.

'You said,' he continued, 'that it was going to be alright. That you would only soothe my wounds instead of create them. You said that it was for my own good. That it was my fault this was happening.'

'Heavy,' Gin murmured over his mug. I refrained from glaring at him. I kept my gaze on Shuuhei, gnawing at my knuckles.

What? Was he planning to string our dirty laundry in public? Please. Show me a relationship that is perfect and doesn't have its bad days.

'Where were you last night? You said.' His voice got louder, sounding frantic and angry. Like when I'd ask him those same questions. 'Why didn't you answer my calls? What were you doing? Who were you with? Am I not important to you?'

I shouldn't have had to ask. You should've given me the answers without my asking. That's what trust is all about.

'You used your words and I was punished for using mine.'

That's not true.

'You can't go there. You said.' He was gripping the mike with both hands. 'You can't talk to him. You can't do that. You can't spend time with them. You're so important to me.'

'This is stupid,' I grumbled.

'It's just a poem,' Gin muttered.

'I know that.'

'Then why are you sweating?'

'You said it would be easier if I just listened,' Shuuhei said softly and shrugged his shoulders. 'So I listened.'

'You said I would be happier if I only trusted you. So I did.'

'You said it wouldn't hurt if I stopped arguing. So I became silent.'

You started to listen. You started to trust me. So I stopped hurting you. I kept my promise. So why did you leave me, Shuuhei?

'I didn't want to question what you said.' He almost laughed. 'If you said anything at all it meant love, didn't it? If I listened that meant I loved you back, right?'

Of course. Isn't that how love works?

'I wanted to believe that you were a good person.' He gulped. 'I wanted to believe that you didn't want to hurt me. I wanted to believe that this wasn't my reality.'

He spread one arm out to the side.

'You said you were my savior.

You said you were my friend.

You said you were my lover.'

'You said-!' He stopped, grabbed his head and walked away from the mike. I held my breath as he took his. He came back and looked everyone dead in the eyes. 'You know, it doesn't matter what you said. Because now…' he jabbed a thumb at himself, '…it's my turn.'

'You were not my savior,' he uttered forcefully. 'You were my enslaver.

'You were not my friend. You were my enemy.

And you were not my lover. You were my master.'

With every emphasized "not" I felt the knot in my chest get tighter and tighter. He was looking at the audience but I knew it was just a coverup. He was looking at me with those eyes. They weren't the same eyes that would light up when he saw me. They weren't the same ones that reflected shame when I cornered him. They weren't the same ones that would glaze over when I was inside him. I'd never seen those eyes before. They were burning. Burning and angry.

'You believed,' he was practically shouting into the mike. The whole room was silent, eyes focused on him, 'that by restricting my words and my ability to think for myself that I would accept your truths! You would disguise them with sweet words, and tender kisses, and believed it was enough to make me stay! Deep down you knew I didn't need you. But you. Needed. Me.'

He paused, letting it all sink in. His next line almost destroyed me.

'And that terrified you.'

'It was when your fear started to burn through your truths did I finally see you. You and your incessant need to claim ownership. Was that really necessary? Was that really what you wanted? Was that really what you called love?'

It was all I had. You were all I had. How could you expect me to give it all up so easily?

'I still have my tongue.' He touched his lips. 'My thoughts are still mine.' He tapped the side of his head. 'And my heart is still beating.' He rested a hand on his chest and kept it there. 'That is all I need to be able to look you in the eye and finally say something back.'

'You said I could never leave you.' He was no longer the quiet boy who started the performance. 'I say, I don't see any shackles.'

He put his hands behind his back and took a step away from the mike. Nobody said a word. I don't think anyone took a breath. I could hear my heart beating painfully in my ears.

Then the applause came. Everyone stood up, clapping hard and whistling. They loved him. He was a hero. He slayed the beast with his words and saved the day. But the beast wasn't dead. He was wounded. And humiliated.

'Come on,' I grumbled. I realized Gin wasn't next to me. He was standing and clapping with everyone else. I stared at him incredulously. He just looked at me, shrugged, and walked away.

The beast was now alone.

I have to find him. I need to fix things.

I sidelined politeness and pushed past the crowd to reach the stage. But he wasn't there. Amidst these hippie students I'd lost sight of him. I cursed myself and roughly jostled someone near me to get away.

'Hey! Watch it!'

I froze and turned around. It was him.

He didn't look surprised to see me. But he didn't look scared either. He looked annoyed. No. Irritated.

No.

Disgusted.

I swallowed. Say something. You were going to confront him and get an answer. Make him feel guilty. Humiliate him. Hurt him like he hurt you.

But I could only get out one sentence. 'I can fix things.'

He tensed. We'd done this before. He'd run away, I'd apologize, we'd make up, everything would be fine until he did something to annoy me. Then the cycle repeated itself.

I was apologizing. Things were way out of hand than normal but that didn't mean the cycle was broken. It could still be fixed.

'No.' My eyes bulged. 'You don't have to fix things. You have to fix yourself.' He thrust a piece of paper in my chest. He was looking at me with those burning eyes again. 'Next time you find me, I'm going to call the cops.'

He walked away. I saw he met up with the redhead who casually slung an arm around his waist as they exited the bar. Just like I used to.

I picked up the paper that had floated to the ground. It was probably his poem. How dramatic of him.

I turned it over.

It was blank.