A/N: Ron and Hermione have always been at war with each other and constantly fighting, but in the end, they loved each other, always have, always will. Ron/Hermione. They're not married, just living together. RxR. FxF. I do not own Harry Potter.
Submission for:
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Speed Drabble
Hogwarts Fair 2014 Challenge/Competition: Refreshments
Represent That Character! Challenge II
It was another fight: more shouting, more tears and more broken glass. Hermione wasn't even sure what they were fighting about anymore, but it was undoubtedly insignificant to the harsh and cutting remarks were thrown about afterwards.
Ron shouted again, something about her bossy attitude and superior god complex. She just needed to get off his back every once in a while. She shouted back about how if he didn't belittle himself and was in need of constant guidance, she wouldn't have to take charge. She wanted him to man up and his balls to finally drop. Another broken object and then a ripping sound. The cushions of their couch was now slashed open, the white stuffing pouring out of the seam.
"No, Ron! This is getting worse and worse by the second! We keep trying and trying to make this work, but obviously we are two totally different people. You like freedom and I like control. Those are complete polar opposites and this constant clashing is not healthy," Hermione said, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her nerves.
Ron's wand was still pointed at the damaged couch, his eyes blazing as he looked her in the eyes. His gaze was so intense, she had to take a step back from its burn. His hand lowered slowly and then he said, "What are you trying to say, Hermione?"
Hermione closed her eyes, silent tears leaking from the corners, and she said softly, "I think we need to take a break. I think we need some time apart."
Ron eyes flashed and his face turned even redder than before. His eyebrows knitted in anger and confusion, "Are you breaking up with me?"
Hermione shook her head wildly, "No, I love you, Ron. I always have and I always will, but right now we're at each others throats. It might help. It might-"
Ron groaned exasperatedly and said, "There you go again, taking control and making decisions for both of us. Well, you'll get your wish, Hermione. I'll be the obedient puppy and let you have your break while I have mine."
He stormed past her, his shoes stomping on the broken glass around her feet. She chased after him as his footsteps leading him to the door. "Where are you going?" she asked desperately. She grabbed for his arm, hoping to pull him back in. They needed to fix this. They needed to talk it out. She didn't want him to leave still angry.
But he shrugged her off and said, "It's of no concern, but if you must know, I'm going to get a drink, probably a firewhiskey. I'll be back late." Then he wrenched the door open and stalked out, slamming it in her face.
Hermione sunk to the ground, her back against the door, the tears coming full force. She loved him, she knew that in the depths of her heart, but she hated his behaviour, she hated arguing with him and she hated when he turned to drinking to drown his feelings. She drew her knees to her chest and sobbed, waiting for his return.
He came back close to midnight, his anger dissipated after the second drink. Even drunk with his vision slightly blurred, he could make out her sleeping form in the living room, her small body barely covering the rip in the cushions. He sighed. He loved her but he hated fighting with her, he hated the screaming matches and he hated what he became in those moments.
He walked over to her. She was now at peace as well, her soft cheek on the other cushion, wet from the tears she had shed. He leaned down and brushed her hair away from her forehead and kissed it. He lifted her from the couch to take her into their bedroom.
Ron was tired of all the fighting. They would talk it out tomorrow, like mature adults. They would make it work, for they loved each other, always have, always will.
