Claire was hovering between desperation and anger. It wasen't even about sex anymore. This was everything that was going wrong in their relationship. She was saying exactly what she wanted, and Damien just couldn't or wouldn't or didn't give it to her. She didn't know what to do anymore. The anger and frustration came out in a rage just made it worse.
Damien's mouth moved to form words, but nothing came out. He stood imputently processing how to reply to an anger he couldn't fathom. What had he done, why was she so... mad? Should he apologize? "I'm sorry" was what he said.
Enraged at his passivity, it wasen't what Claire wanted to hear. "Leave, just get out." was all she could say. She didn't have it in her to be patient or to explain, to hold his hand for the ten thousanth time. She loved Damien like she had always loved him, but this was always the man he had been. Kind, and sweet, and thoughtful, and weak.
"I don't know where this is coming from. I don't know what you want. I want you to be happy." was Damien's next entrete. He had loved Claire since the day she had finally convinced him it was within his rights to. As with that first detant, had never wanted to own or possess her, all he wanted was to love her. He stood in the back, as he always had, but now he had her to bring him forward every now and then, and it was good. But she wasen't happy, wasen't happy with him, and it was excruciating.
Breast still facing away, Claire turned just her head to look at him for a long moment. She didn't know what she was looking for in his eyes. What she saw was pain, and fear. She hit him across the face with her open hand. Her hand stung fiercely and it took her a moment to realize why. It burned as she lowered it to her side, still defient, still waiting for a response. The pain felt... right. Maybe deserved? It certainly fit with the boiling rage within her.
Damien didn't feel the pain. At least, not on a level he recognized. All he felt was... suddenly, anger. What was this? Who was she? Everything was quiet now in his mind. "Stop." A single word, said from deep in his diaphram, slamming through his vocal chords and echoing in the room like a bark.
Claire vibrated a moment, rocking on her heals like it had been her turn to be hit. A tension released within her. All the sudden she was standing next to her husband again. And the room was chillly, and the fridge motor was humming quietly and she had just hit her husband. She went to him, and he was surprised enough to not shrink away. She clutched him like a rag on a hook, and he stood straight.