"What are you doing?"

Ivo was sitting at the dining table with a neat stack of papers in front of him and a calculator. There were two empty coffee cups already on the table and the crumbs of a biscuit.

He glanced up and had a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Sorting out bills and payments and things," he replied in that sort of soft, night time voice of his that I like.

"Oh," I replied, already horrified at the complication of it all. "Do you need any help?"

He gave a short laugh but I could tell it wasn't malicious.

"No sweetie, it's alright."

I sauntered over anyway and stood behind his chair, bringing my hands up to massage at the base of his neck. I really love the sound he makes when I do it. It's the same sound he makes when he reads something really interesting. I like to think he finds me as interesting as them.

It's not surprising that his neck and shoulders are tense but after a few minutes I can feel him relax. I had imagined he would have given up on the bills by now and suggested we move things to the bedroom but he stayed where he was.

I moved back down to his shoulders and rested my chin on top of his head, almost giving myself neck strain by having to crouch down. Kissing the top of his head I breathed in the smell of his shampoo. I never understood why he insisted on a different one from me. It had made me feel strange inside when I saw him once, just standing in the bathroom with the bottle of what I use. He just stood there and inhaled the scent of it. It felt like a good strange. Not that it turned me on or anything, just that it made me feel good.

He startled me when he reached up to put his hand over mine on his shoulder and he nuzzled his cheek into my touch like an over sized cat. I laughed at the image of Ivo with some whiskers and a fluffy tail.

"Tim," he started warily.

"Mmm," I replied.

"I really love you," he said slowly.

"I know," I smiled happily and crouched down again to kiss his hand on his shoulder. He turned slightly to look at me and I could tell he was upset.

"Ivo, I love you," I laughed at the expression on his face. He didn't seem sure of himself.

"So much," I finished, the impact of my own words hitting me like a realisation. I felt like in this moment there had never been anyone but Ivo in my world. It seemed foolish for anyone else to have been there instead of him.

He gave a watery smile and stood from the chair to hug me to him. It always made me smile that even though I was a good few inches taller he was always the hugger and I was the one being hugged. He is just dominant through and through. It's worse when he is sick. Then he's like a nightmare toddler.

"Is everything okay," I asked gently, moving my hand up to the back of his head and hugging him tighter.

"It's perfect," he mumbled into my jumper.

I smiled and pulled back but he held me there.

"Just five more minutes," he joked and I laughed.

We stood like that for a few minutes until he whispered my name again.

"Yeah," I asked him.

He hesitated for a long time and pulled away from our embrace before turning from me.

I could see him shake his head slightly and he looked up as if to curse the heavens.

"Ivo," I started, frightened by how serious he was being. "What's wrong?"

He looked at me, his eyes red and tears falling down his face. I automatically stepped towards him to console him but I didn't understand why he pushed me away.

"Ivo," I pleaded. "You're scaring me."

He gave a sigh and fixed his features into one of determination.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore, Tim."

My heart jolted and I felt myself sway a little on the spot.

"What?"

He looked at me right in the eyes.

"I think we need to break up."

"Why," I asked softly, the reality of things still far from hitting me.

Ivo stared at me for a moment, assessing my reaction. Was this some sort of a test?

"I'm not what you want Tim," he sighed as though life had defeated him.

"And how the fuck do you know," I shouted, anger coursing through me now. He blinked in what I think was shock.

"Why do you always think you know what I want to do, or say, or eat, or think or be," I demanded. "I'm telling you that I love you," I practically whined. "What more can I tell you Ivo for you to believe that you're the only one I want?"

"Martin said..."

"What Ivo?! What did Martin say?"

He huffed at me, his own anger building.

"He said I'm bad for you, that you only want me because you don't know any better," he yelled. "I control you and hurt you and that I use you for my ego. That I'm toxic for you," he moaned. "That I'm just like...them," he finished quietly, his eyes wide and fearful.

I could feel myself pale.

"Don't say that," I whispered.

"It's true Tim and you know that."

"No."

"Yes," he argued.

"SHUT UP!"

I screamed at him and only realised a second later that I had thrown the calculator against the far wall, leaving a mark on the wallpaper and a broken calculator on the floor. I stared at it, confused. I was shaking and my head was already pounding.

"I can't do this to you," he said suddenly through the silence. "I'm sorry Tim but it's over."

"No, Ivo you're being an idiot," I told him, going up to him and trying to hold onto him but he kept pushing me away.

"Ivo please," I begged, sounding desperate. "Stop it."

He ignored me and walked away form me towards the bedroom.

"What are you doing," I cried as he began to pull some clothes from his drawers. "IVO?!"

"I'll stay at the hotel," he replied calmly.

"How can you do this to me," I whispered, the feeling of nausea getting worse. I'm not sure I've ever seen Ivo looked at me like that before.

He ignored me and lifted the bag he had packed, going into the hallway and lifting his wallet. I moved past him and stood in front of the door.

"Don't do this to me," I asked him quietly and he deliberated. His hand reached up to my cheek and I felt a relief that he was going to listen to me but I was wrong. He didn't even have to force me aside. I accepted defeat and moved out of his way.

"We'll talk tomorrow, yeah?"

He had stopped to ask me, looking hopeful. I just nodded. Always submissive to him.

I gave a harsh laugh and his eyebrows furrowed at me.

"James was a coward too," I said sourly, twisting the knife in his side. The slam of the door twisted mine. Then I just sat down and cried.