"They say marriages are made in Heaven. But so is thunder and lightning." - Clint Eastwood
They're volatile and messy. They're unrefined and breakable and entirely too unpredictable. They love each other more than they hate each other most of the time, but sometimes they hate each other more than they love each other. They yell and scream and throw things and sometimes they hurt each other more than they intend to.
For his part, Tyler doesn't have control of his werewolf instincts yet. His anger is ever present in their relationship and sometimes he's physically violent with her. He'll apologize profusely afterward and he'll kiss her until she laughs.
"It's okay," she'll tell him the next morning when he looks at her regretfully. She'll show him the spot where he hurt her before, "See, look," she'll say, "there's nothing there." They both know, however, that some bruises go deeper than the skin. Some aren't about the injury but the cause. And, it hurts Caroline more when he doesn't trust her—when he's possessive and jumps to conclusions, when he gets mad about a perceived lie.
Caroline knows she's no angel, though. She strung him along for months before she finally made a choice and she knows that hurt him. She lied about his family and about her family and kept secrets that tore them apart once before. She knows he doesn't always trust her and she understands it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt either.
He'll see her with Matt at the Mystic Grill and he'll pull her away and take her against the wall out back just to prove to her that it's him and not Matt that makes her feel. He'll flirt with pretty blondes just to prove to her that she's expendable.
He knows she's insecure and he goes and exploits it whenever he feels hurt. And she'll shut him out for days before he manages to corner her alone in her house. She'll throw things and scream and he'll yell and push her around and make her cry.
And then it's over and they'll apologize and she'll say, "Don't you know I love you?"
And he'll kneel on the floor and wrap her in his arms and he'll rock her as he starts to cry too. "I do," he'll say, "and I'm sorry."
And they both know it's true.
They'll wake up the next morning and things will go back to normal. He'll make her laugh and she'll make him relax. He'll hold her at night while she hums sappy love songs. He'll tell her she's the only thing in his life that makes sense and she'll tell him the same.
But, inevitably, the cycle will start all over again.