The Violence They Cause

“They.”
“What?” The barista stared across the counter at Jack, seeming like she’d misheard him.

“They prefer they/them pronouns, please.” He watched the young woman’s eyes scan his partner over, clearly trying to come to a conclusion on the sex of Jack’s partner. He grit his teeth as he watched the matter being tackled in the barista’s mind.

“Uh, here is their macchiato.” She pushed the cup forward slowly, still staring.

Jack felt a hand on his arm and he glanced across, finding himself diving into jeweled blue eyes. “Mm?”

“Don’t worry about it, Jacks, I don’t mind that much.”

Growling under his breath, Jack grabbed their drink and handed it over. “Yeah, well, I know it does bother you and people just have to learn that not everything is black and white.”

They laughed and shook their head, pulling Jack away from the counter. “Let’s sit outside.”

“Mm.” He nodded and followed, pulling the door open and letting his partner out first. They claimed a bench outside of the cafe and settled close to one another. They hadn’t taken their hand off of Jack’s arm yet, and he refused to pull it back from them.

Jack watched them take a sip of the hot drink then smile widely at the taste. They could always make Jack happy, and he planned to stay with them for a long time.

“You shouldn’t get so angry with people.”

“People shouldn’t have such a hard fucking time with it. It’s a word, not the end of the world.” He sipped at his own coffee, staring hard at the cars passing by.

When he felt his partner rub their chin against his shoulder, he looked over and broke. Those damned eyes could melt Antarctica with a glance, so his heart didn’t stand a chance. “Thank you for caring about me that much.”

“Mm.” He placed his lips on their cheek and planted a kiss there. Turning slightly, he let his head rest against theirs, and wrapped an arm around them. “Of course I do.”

They quietly cuddled on the bench for a while, watching others pass by, in their own worlds. Jack’s partner wasn’t content with how they ended the conversation, though. “Maybe there are certain times we should stick up about it and other times just let it go?”

Jack pulled back so that he could properly look at his partner. “I thought that, too, once. I used to think the random waiter or salesperson didn’t need to pander to our lifestyle but that changed.”

They gazed back, curiosity making the blue swirl in their eyes. “What changed?”

“You told me what it does to you when someone calls you he or she. I keep thinking that every time they misgender you, you feel a physical pain in your chest and your mind reels trying to grasp at something that isn’t real. I can’t imagine how you smile back at them like everything is fine.” Jack shook his head, setting his now nearly empty cup down on the ground then taking his partner’s free hand. “I correct them because I wouldn’t allow someone to walk up and slap you so why would I allow them to emotionally hurt you?”

“I love you,” they said and leaned in to kiss Jack.

He met them halfway.