A VERY short one piece... Just some random AJ thoughts...  Enjoy.

Standard disclaimers apply.



***************************** Hate is Easier ******************************



It would be so much easier if he could find it in himself to stay mad at her, to hate 
her.  But he never could.  AJ McLean, King of Grudges, could never hold one against her.  
Could never hold anything against her.

She was perfect in so many annoyingly subtle ways.

In the way her hair was always perfect, no matter what color or style.  The way her eyes 
showed her every thought and feeling.  The way she folded his shirts and tied his rare 
ties.  In the way she was his match in every way, shape, and form.  

In the way that she never asked or demanded anything from him.  

She was always there, patiently waiting, when he wanted her, when he needed her.  She was 
stable, constant, sliding in and out of his life seamlessly at his whim.  She never asked 
what and who he had done in his time away from her.  Never asked if he was faithful, never 
assumed or cared if he was.

Never asked if they had a relationship or a friendship.  

When all the world wanted a piece of him she was content with what he was willing to offer 
her.  It wasn’t much but she never complained.  

Never said a word when he showed up at her house at three in the morning, drunk and red 
eyed from crying.  Never protested when he pushed her against the nearest wall, pinning 
her with needy kisses and hungry gropes without even a hello.  

She understood him on so many fundamental levels it was frightening.  She understood his 
desperation, his silent, secret pain, his nightmares.  She knew what words it would take 
to bring him to his knees.

And sometimes it infuriated him that she never fought him when he left for months at a 
time.  When he cheated blatantly on her and with her.  Sometimes he would snap, would 
scream and rant and rave, furious BECAUSE she asked for nothing.  

Because he wanted some clue, some sign that he had wormed a way into her heart.  That she 
needed him as much as he needed her.  That she thought of him on lonely nights alone.  
That she stayed awake, plagued with memories, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom.

He wanted to find a crack in her defenses, in her walls, in her confidence, in her 
perfection.  Had to find one sometimes because if she was as perfect as she seemed than 
he was even more broken than he had ever imagined.  

He wanted to hate her so badly sometimes, because hate is easier than love.  And love, 
love frightened him most of all.