A/N: Hey guys, back again with a companion piece to the last little drabble. Again, I'll talk more about it in the end note, so without further ado:

Here ya go:

Did he even know what love is anymore?

After so much time, after so many people, being beat down over and over. He wondered what love was?

Was it showering them with presents and attention? Changing his hair, his appearance just to appease them? Putting their needs in front of his every time? Being told over and over that he was far from perfect? That he needed to do more?

Love was a constant fight, a fight for attention, a fight for approval.

When he first saw her he figured she wouldn't be much different. Attractive, with curly blonde hair, long legs and eyes that could kill. She was clearly a woman who knew what she wanted, she radiated confidence and he knew he would be drawn to her.

When he bought her flowers for the first time she was surprised. Happy but surprised. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him this was a happy unexpected surprise. Unexpected? He was confused.

He tried to pay for their date and she stopped him, giving her card to the waiter saying it was only fair since he paid for the first one. He was shocked.

He preemptively cancelled plans with his friends to spend time with her and was stunned when she pushed him out the door with a kiss and told him to enjoy game night.

He asked if he should cut his hair and she just shrugged, saying she liked what he had going now, but it was entirely up to him. He must have given her a weird look because she stood up, ruffled his hair and told her that she liked him for him not his hair and asked what he wanted for lunch.

He wore his glasses for the first time, expecting to get yelled at, and was blown away by her mind melting kiss when she saw them. He got to know that she really liked the glasses.

It hadn't been a good day, everything had gone wrong and when he entered the apartment, trying his best to hide the pain, she had immediately pulled him into a hug. She stayed up, listening about his terrible day, running her fingers through his hair while cuddling close.

She told him he was perfect, that he was enough. She swore a vengeance on anyone who tried to claim otherwise.

Maybe he had it all wrong. Maybe love was not about the presents and constant attention. Maybe love wasn't about forcing himself to be someone he's not. Maybe love wasn't about trying to prove yourself.

Maybe love wasn't a fight.

Maybe love was peace.

The peace that came with quiet nights in, the only extravagance the stuffed crust on the pizza. The peace that came with mild afternoons lazing about in messy hair and glasses. The peace that came with feeling cared for without conditions.

Maybe she had taught him how to love again.

A/N: Well there ya have it, the companion piece to Repeat. I thought it was important to show that men can also be in unhealthy relationships, but again this is a little something to provide some hope. And just go into a little about what love means, the semantics one might say ;)

Anyway, what did you think? Did you like it?

Please Review! I'd love to hear your thoughts! And as always, thanks for reading!

See ya! :)