Disclaimer; I do not own The Mortal Instruments.

Slowly but surely, the fights started up again.

They fought about the most random, the silliest of things.

He screamed when she forgot to put the dishwasher on.

She bitched when he was home late from work.

He just did it because...he didn't know why.

At least she had a reason.

"Couples counseling!" They said.

"It will help." They said.

It didn't.

She admitted it: she was scared. This was how it started last time, him coming home late.

He scoffed at that. He reminded her he'd said he'd never leave.

"You said you'd never leave." She pointed out. "Not that you'd stop whoring around."

He glared at her.

The therapist gave up on them. Said, "You're a lost cause."

He took her out to dinner that night.

She stared him, wondering if he was feeling alright.

He snapped at her, "Stop gawking at me. It's not attractive."

She looked away.

He started the conversation. "I said I'd never leave you."

She looked up at him. "I know."

"You said you wouldn't let me."

She repeated herself, "I know."

'So why do you think...why do you assume the worst?" He asked, scared for the answer.

She smiled a little, "Because baby, you started yelling again. We had this brief little stint where everything was fine, and then...then it was like you were going to walk out again. And I only yelled because I'm scared, okay? I'm scared to death of losing you again. I thought...I thought you were doing it again. I thought I could taste them on your lips at night."

"No. I wouldn't do that. Not again." He promised.

Of course, all those promises, that whole conversation was forgotten, turned to ash.

She came home that fateful day.

He was already there, waiting for her.

"Why are you home?" She asked.

"Hey..." Was all she got in return.

She tried again, "Why are you home?"

"It's over. I'm sorry. I can't do this anymore." He looked down, away from her.

After everything, she thought, was he serious?

He tried to explain himself, but he couldn't get a word in.

She was screaming, accusing him of giving up because things got hard.

He knew she was right, in a sense.

"Get out." She was done yelling now. Now, she was deadly calm.

"Okay." He said sadly. "Just one last thing."

"What do you want?" She sounded tired, worn out.

He walked up to her, and kissed her, long and hard.

When it was over, she stared up at him.

"That." He whispered. Then he walked away.

And this time, she knew the taste of girls and cigarettes on his lips.

So...happy endings anyone? Nope, not wanted here. This is the last story in the "All They" series. I hope you guys enjoyed them!

Anyways, I'm still working on my book. Been getting a lot of inspiration for poems from my girlfriend and I's situation. If you want a sneak peek, feel free to let me know!

Love you all,

Blaze