Friday, January 7  

Fight

You wouldn't think Vic a fighter to look at her. She's what you might call "non-threatening" with her shy demeanour and quick, if uncertain, smiles. Usually, fighters owe their fiesty nature to a surplus of confidence. A thing which Vic has never had much of to start with.

fight verb 1. To attempt to harm or gain power over an adversary by blows or with weapons. 2. To engage in a quarrel; argue. 3. To strive vigorously and resolutely.

Vic and Jon don't fight very often but when they do it is always about sex. Even when it's about the groceries, it's really about sex. How little they're having, who wants it less/more, who's jerking off to what and what that must mean for their relationship.

It's a battle that both are weary of fighting and yet, it wages on, battalions always at the ready, front lines moving forward once a week or more depending on the validity of Vic's excuses.

When Vic fights, she doesn't say things she'll regret. She's thankful at least for that little bit of self-restraint. Because she wouldn't like to have to apologize after these fights. That would be like giving in. Jon also refuses to apologize. He believes he's in the right to want sex and Vic is in the wrong to avoid it. Which, of course, by typical relational rules would be absolutely correct.

But still. But still.

Vic maintains her quiet outrage like a covert bonfire under the subway bridge. She fights against herself. Sometimes, she wants sex quite a lot -- shaves her legs, gets things ready -- but when the moment comes, she feels as though to fuck Jon would be to let him win the battle. And she just can't, as conquering general, allow that to happen.

It's stupid really.