Disclaimer: I don't own a person, place or thing that you may recognize.

Pairing: Lita/CM Punk

Notes: Written originally for the litafics community on LiveJournal, with the prompt word: Fight

~*~

Outside it was calm, clear and slightly warm; a light breeze countering the normal humidity.

Inside it was stormy, hot and angry and silent. So silent.

And the distance between them right now made their previous physical distance pale in comparison.

Her back was to him, but he could clearly see the tightness of her shoulders, her hands clenching the sheets; each inhale and exhale of breath that she took. And despite the fact that she was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers, he couldn't recall a time that he'd seen her so naked.

But when they had been getting ready to go to bed that night, things had been different. Oh so different.

Before, they were still on the same page.

Before, he had still been certain about their relationship.

"... I think," she finally shifted, but still wouldn't turn to face him, "I should leave. Go stay at a hotel or something. Or maybe just head home."

"But you are home."

Lita shook her head, "for you this might be home but..." The former diva trailed off with a sharp intake of breath, "we need some space."

Punk crossed his arms, "we just had space and we agreed that was hell. That space is the reason that this is your home, just as much as it is mine."

"Then you still don't get it... you haven't heard a word of what I've been trying to say--"

"And neither have you," he interrupted quietly, forcing her to listen to carefully. "I get that you're nervous, I get that every month that we're together makes you think that we're headed down the exact same road. But we aren't."

"But--"

"You talked before, I listened. You yelled at me before, and I just took it." Tiredly, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. "It's my turn to talk."

Lita finally turned enough to look at him just as he turned his back to her. And maybe it wasn't intentional and maybe it was, but all the same she remained silent and waited for him to continue.

"We're different and I know I've said that before, but it's true and you need to remember that. It isn't just about us being different from everyone else, we're different. I know we don't have everything in common and we don't need that to be happy or for this to work. But that also makes us different. We don't need to be about opposites attract or that stupid zodiac shit."

He turned and in the darkness, their eyes met. But unlike before when she had made every effort to shut him off, he had caught her off guard and open.

"You know I love you. And if you don't then now you do. I know I'm pretty damn lucky to have you. And without sounding like a complete jerk, you're pretty lucky to have me too."

"But is that enough?" She questioned herself just as much as she questioned him, a frown on her pretty face. "I shouldn't be having doubts about us. You shouldn't be fighting with me about us."

"You're right," he agreed, though he didn't specify exactly, "but you are and we are."

She felt the bed shift beneath her as he sat down.

"What happened to us?"

Lita smiled tightly, "that's what I've been trying to figure out... and I still don't know. I don't know what changed, so I don't know how to fix it. I don't know if we can fix it."

He watched her carefully, "or if you want to try... right? You don't know if you want to stick around, you don't know if we're worth the effort."

"Don't go there because you can't tell me that you haven't had the same doubts."

"I won't deny that but at least I'm willing to give us a fighting chance. Why can't you?"

She remained silent, starting to turn herself away from him when she felt the lightest touch on her arm.

"Maybe we do need some space, some time apart … to cool off. But if we do that, what happens next? Will you come back or are you just going to walk away from me without giving us another chance?"

"... I don't know."

He shook his head, "you're going to have to do better than that, Li."

She held his gaze, like she used to, allowing him to see what she was trying to desperately hide. "How many more chances?"

"As many as you're willing to take, as many as you're willing to give … as many as you think are necessary."

"And what do you think? How many do you think are necessary? How many chances are you willing to give?"

Punk cupped her face in his hands, "as many as it takes for us to both understand, to remember..."

She smiled again, though this one didn't quite stretch across her face, but it was more in her eyes than anywhere else. And in that wordless gesture, he had his answer.

"... you can still sleep here, if you want. That way you won't have to worry about finding a hotel this late." He held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest, "I'll sleep in the guest room or on the couch."

"It's okay," Lita replied tiredly, "this is your bedroom--"

"Our bedroom."

"You know what I meant," she made to stand, but stopped on her own accord. "Tomorrow, I'm going back to Atlanta. I'll call you."

Punk arched an eyebrow, "and how do I know you won't try to sneak out of here once I fall asleep?"

Lita smirked, "you really don't know but you'll have to take my word for it, I guess."

Without hesitation, he reached for her, "give me tonight, please?"

"If I do that, then who's to say that we're actually going to sleep."

"I can sleep when I'm dead." He waited for her to lay back down before settling himself beside her, "we don't have to do anything, I just want to know you're here."

She didn't reply, but that was mostly because her eyes closed the second her head hit the pillow. And maybe that was a good thing and maybe it wasn't. But at least, for now, they'd come to some sort of understanding. And that was certainly better than how they'd started the night.