It was delightful, seeing Madara take on his new job. 

I had work to do in the days with the same architect that had hired Madara, but we were in different places physically, which meant we would part in the morning and meet up at home at six or so like a normal couple. I found I liked this new pace of having a daily schedule that was the same every day, and when I talked to my employer about it, he told me he would see what he could do to prolong it.

In the evenings, me and Madara cooked together, went running together, fucked together. God, it was lovely. At first, we had a lot of sex, some Saturdays just staying in bed for hours, fucking as soon as we woke up and then just waiting until we could do it again. Bit with time, we weren't as desperate for each other's bodies as we had been, having calmed ourself a little, and the sex became something different. It became deeper, even more meaningful, even more beautiful. Sometimes, I would hug him so close to me afterwards, I almost crushed him. He would laugh, but when he noticed how emotional I was, he would take my face in his hands, both of us naked still, and kiss me slowly and softly, leaving my lips wet and my heart full.

The day I finally asked him, we were sitting on the living room floor together. I had an acoustic guitar that I had bought in an antiques shop but couldn't play. Turned out Madara could, and I could sing a bit, and upon having discovered this about one another, we had come to spend the evenings singing and playing together. This was one of those times.

"I would like you to tell me", I said and took his hand. I forced myself to look up at him as I braided our fingers; it was important to me that he considered me safe. "I would like you to tell me about the man you fled from. You don't have to do it now. But some day, I would like to know."

Madara looked at our braided fingers and squeezed my hand. He then seemed to decide that tonight was as a good a time as any. And he was right. A light rain was hammering on the tilted windows. I had a salt stone lamp that cast an orange glow over us as we sat on the carpet, enjoying what we had built together. It wouldn't get better than this. 

"He was amazing. At first. They all are, I suppose. It started with little things. Like telling me I didn't look good in certain clothes. At first, I would only be happy he told me, even if I was hurt. I was happy because I had found someone who wanted my best. What I didn't understand then that he was slowly breaking down my confidence."

Madara told me how the abuse had escalated. It has also expanded to not only be psychological, but also economical and physical. When he reached the end of his tale, we sat entwined, him in my lap, and I had no memory of how that had come to be. Tears were streaming down my face, but not down his. He dried those tears, yet made no big affair of it, for which I was grateful.

But then, he told me one thing that would set off alarm bells in my head.

"I noticed he was seeing another man. Every Friday, he would come home drunk at around midnight. With another man's cologne on him."

Ice cold dread clenched at my heart.

Don't be ridiculous, I told myself. The chances are minimal.

But every Friday...

"How... How king did this last? And when was it?"

Madara mentioned a time span that matched exactly.

"Why do you ask?"

Madara looked up at me, not at all suspiciously but rather curious. I knew I had to tread very, very carefully from now on.

"Please", I said, praying to God I was wrong. "Tell me more. About him."

He did, and everything matched. His name. His age. His appearance.

"Hashirama, are you all right?" He put a hand to my cheek. "You've gotten all white."

"Sorry, just... Just shocked to hear about this."

But as Madara hugged me to comfort me, I was trembling in white-hot, blinding rage.

It was Saturday. I was dressed in a plain, long-sleeved white T-shirt and black jeans, my hair in a high ponytail. No jewellery, no anything; I did that for Madara only.

"I'm going out to see a friend", I told Madara, who was sitting at our computer, drawing on his project.

"Anyone I know and should ask you to say hi to from me?" he asked.

"No", I said. "But I will talk about you a lot."

That was true at least.

It had all come back to me. I had been able to push it to the back of my mind for so long, first after everything that had happened to Madara, and then when we started to build a relationship together, so full of love and lust and happiness there was no place for anything else.

But now, it had all come back. The abuse. The rape. How scared I had become of him. 

So I had sent him a text, feigned I was begging him to see me again. I had even booked a hotel room. I had told him to meet me there at three pm, but I was going to be there earlier.

I checked in and went into the beautiful suite, sitting down on the bed to read a book, one that had been recommended to me by Madara after he read it in his book club. It was an eerie feeling I had as I sat there. I wasn't nervous. I wasn't scared. Just angry. Only that.

But then, there was a knock on the door, and as I opened and saw him standing there, tall and strong and handsome as ever, I felt how I weakened. It made me hate myself.

But then, a picture came into my mind. Of Madara, sitting down on my lush carpet with the light from the salt stone lamp caressing his skin as he played the guitar to my vocals. The mere thought of ever hurting that creature in any way made me feel sick.

I bid him in kindly, feigning politeness. He had an evil smirk on his stupid face, believing he had won me over; won over me. Why the fuck was he not in prison? Madara had given his testimony ages ago, but we had heard nothing.

I closed the door, and as I turned into the room, I saw he had hung his suit on the chair as if he owned the place. Well, he didn't. I had paid for it.

"Thank you for asking me here", he said. "I have missed you. A lot. Actually, I haven't been able to stop thinking about-"

I lifted my arm and pushed him up against the wall with my forearm at his throat faster than you could say small did energy. 

"What the fuck are you playing at?" I hissed.

To my great glee, I saw surprise and fear in his eyes. His glasses were askew which made him look pathetic. He tried to say something, but it only came out in a wheeze.

So I continued.

"I don't give a fuck that you were unfaithful to me, having someone else at the same time without telling me. But how dare you do that to Madara? How dare you hurt him as you did?"

At first, I saw confusion in his eyes at me mentioning the name of his ex-fiancé. Then, realisation. At least you're still smart. He had figured out Madara was with me now.

"Where is he? Where do you two live?" he wheezed.

"Stay the fuck out of our lives." I pushed my elbow harder against his wind pipe until he couldn't get any air. "Am I being clear?"

He nodded. I released him...

And just as I turned my back to him, I made a fist and turned around and beat him straight in his face.

He fell to the ground, and as he lay there, I kicked him in the stomach, causing him to throw up. I grabbed his hair and forced his head up.

"If you ever harm Madara or me again, I don't care if I'm sent to prison for the rest of my life. I will kill you. Now, get up and scrub up so you look decent when we leave. I have a boyfriend to get home to."

I felt him cowering in the elevator down, and I loved it. Before we parted, I harshly grabbed his wrist.

"Was I being clear?"

He nodded.

We parted ways, and I went home to my Madara.