He hit me once, I hit him back, he gave a kick, I gave a slap….
I think that's how it started anyways…
I think we've always had that tension following us around; I think it's always been a 'kiss with a fist' for us. We can never be completely happy without agreeing to disagree.
It's great, don't hear me wrong; I don't know which I like more, angry sex or makeup sex. It's like the more we hurt each other, the more we love each other.
I broke his jaw once and spread his blood across the floor, he broke my leg in return, and we both had blackened eyes.
We always forgive each other, we need each other more than we'd care to admit…I think the day we fight and actually mean it enough to not apologize is the day we stop our truce of sorts.
Our squabbles always end with love sticking and sweat dripping and our bed on fire.
I hit him once, he hit me back, I gave a kick, he gave a slap.
Neither of us care for kicks in the teeth, or the inevitable bloodstains on the carpet, or whenever we accidentally break fine china.
But for us a kiss with a fist, is better than none.
A/N: This is my present for waiting so long to update! Expect new chapters later tonight!
Fic based off of Kiss With A Fist by Florence + the Machine