Paring: Joy x reader
Genre: angst
Word count: .5k
Tonight’s soundtrack: All My Girls Like To Fight - Hope Tala
A/n: so apparently these wont in fact be taking twenty minutes
requested by the wonderful @neonun-au for my 100 followers celebration!
High in a rented apartment above Paris, a storm is erupting. It has been a long time coming, and it’s truly a shame that all of this has to come pouring out now, in all its ugly and messy emotion. Drenching the beautiful city in the resentment of someone you love.
“You can’t keep doing this,” you finally say, voice breaking through the silence. Rain begins to fall and Joy bristles, causing thunder to rumble in the distance. She keeps her cool, though you know there is much roiling and just waiting to burst out beneath the surface.
“Can’t keep doing what?” Her words are soaked with lies, alway have been. She is beautiful beyond comprehension, but beneath her ceramic face lies a vindictive young woman who has never been told no in her life.
“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what I am talking about,” you say, voice monotone. You’ve done this so many times before. If Joy had never been told no, you’ve been told it a million and one times. You are her foil, in every sense of the word.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joy rolls her eyes, turning away from where you sit on the bed to stare moodily out the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. “It’s always something new,” she mumbles, and you’re unsure why she thought you wouldn’t hear her.
“Joy you seem to have absolutely no consideration towards what I want,” you say incredulously, “I’m not a child, I can make decisions for myself.”
She rolls her eyes and turns back in your direction, obviously fed up with the conversation. “It was one glass of wine.” Lightning strikes, and energy fizzles between you, electric and maddening.
“That’s what you don’t get!” Your voice rises as you stand up to face her. “It’s not just one glass of wine. You do this all the time. Constant invalidation of what I want for myself. You can’t just cut me off and tell our waiter I’ll have a glass of water, you can’t just decide we’re leaving the country for two months without asking me. You’re literally trying to take control of everything I do and you can’t even see why that might be an issue.”
Joy gasps. “I’m doing this for you!” she exclaims. You laugh humorlessly, a rumbling background to the torrential argument.
“For me, my ass!” You throw your hands up and begin pacing. “All you care about is yourself. If you stopped and thought about me for even a moment maybe you’d see yourself as the child you act like.”
“If you hate me so much then leave.” Joy’s voice is deadpan, her mouth tight. She knew you wouldn’t leave. You both do.
“I don’t hate you.” You snatch your coat from where you had tossed it over a chair. “Ill be back in an hour.”
You both knew you would never leave her. Sure, she made life difficult, and you had more fights than any decent relationship should, but you wouldn’t leave. You loved the tension too much.
