The argument starts over something tiny. It always does.

Maybe he laughs a bit much. Because he was out too late on a mission. Because he looked at someone the wrong way.

You’re messy. Needy. Childish. Nothing was enough. You wanted more: more reassurance, more touch, more proof that he wasn’t going anywhere.

And he gave it. Even when you snapped at him for nothing. Or your violent mood swings. Or petty arguments.

He’s not perfect. He gets frustrated sometimes, confused others. But he never walks out when you’re spiraling.

He’ll work through your anger, your silence, your tears, trying to fix. Doesn’t matter if you snap. Or if you’re the type he never goes for.

Being with you was a challenge. Petty arguments, jealous spirals, insecurity—but he stays.