"I don't want this anymore... you anymore."
He says it loudly, sternly, hoping that his voice doesn't falter. And it doesn't, no hitch nor waiver. He can't bring himself to be proud of that fact.
They stare at each other, both daring the other to challenge this sudden revelation. This lie. This complete and utter fabrication.
They stare at each other, Cook's gaze flitting between JJ's swollen eye and bruised nose. JJ staring into Cook's eyes, trying to find the truth behind the false bravado. He sees it in there, a few steps behind the guilt and shame.
"You don't love me anymore?"
It's a challenge, they both know it. It's JJ swinging a punch and Cook feeling it land in his gut. And it hurts. Hurts more than it should and Cook swings right back.
"No. Yes, but not like... like that anymore. Not in that... way."
And JJ knows. He presses a finger to the bruises under his eye and watches Cook all but wretch from guilt. JJ knows what this is.
This sudden declaration is born out of shame, guilt and fear. And for once in his life, JJ understands.
"I know you love me James. I know you've loved me from the moment you met me. You hit me and I don't care. But if you can't get over that then swear to me you don't love me and walk out that fucking door!"
They stare at each other, backs straight and shoulders raised. Cook's eyes run down JJ's body. The neck, where his bite mark rests below fabric. The sides, where he's left scratches and welts. The hips, where he can picture the finger sized bruises. And back up again to the face, where he can see his fist-sized bruise.
"I sw... I don't love you. I don't wait this anymore. I don't want you anymore."
He says it loudly, sternly, hoping that his voice doesn't falter. And it doesn't, no hitch nor waiver. He can't bring himself to be proud of that fact.
And he walks out the door.
