February 16, 2015

(OFF CAMERA: 02-16-2015)

Red-faced, Nessa Wall was like a petite little blonde juggernaut on a mission as she stormed down the hall. The zig-zag paisley pattern of the carpet was making her dizzy but she pressed on-- she hadn’t been this drunk in years and it was giving her a level of courage that felt almost godlike. Pausing in front of the door, she hesitated as though she was going to knock and instead pulled out the keycard she’d almost forgotten she had, swiping it in the lock. The light turned green and she shoved the door open. “Matthew!” Her voice came out shrill and loud, far louder than she’d intended. She toned it down for the follow-up. “We need to talk.”

Despite the intrusion on his room and the entering blonde that tried her damndest to wake the dead, Matt remains sitting calmly on the edge of the bed, watching the television in front of him. He slowly turns his head, however, to see Nessa standing in the doorframe, breathing deeply like she’s just run a marathon. “Talk?” He asks simply, like the very idea was foreign to him. “Whatever about, Nessa? I thought you were spending time with that Crumpet today?”

“About…” she stared at him in stupefaction, “are you serious? You have no idea what I could possibly want to talk to you about? You… you haven’t said a word to me since the worst night of my entire life. So is that what we’ve been reduced to now? Strangers,” she moved inside the room, as though realizing she was still standing there with the door open, “who just happen to work in the same company?”

“The worst night of your life was last night? It was a minor set-back, albeit caused by you, but a minor setback nonetheless. If you came here to apologize to me, that might have been a better jumping off point than barging in here like I cheated on you.” He finished, his voice remaining as calm and stoic as ever.

“Apologize to you?” She stammered, tripping over the words, “I didn’t-- God, do you actually think I hit you intentionally?”

“I seem to recall you saying that you would do anything to retain your championship, it’s not outside the realm of possibility that you would within the confines of a match, is it?”

“So that’s why you haven’t said anything?” She crossed the room, flinging his keycard at him. “If that’s the kind of person you think I am, then you can apologize to yourself!”

“We spoke on twitter today, doesn’t that count for something” He asked after being hit with the keycard. “I just figured we’d both benefit from some time to cool off, don’t you think?” He asked, already knowing the answer based off her behavior.

“Cool off?” She echoed his words, shaking her head. “Right, okay. I’m sure that’s what I’d be willing to do normally but I drank a whole bottle of Chablis.” The words came tumbling out, “I just lost the only title that ever mattered… I kicked you in the face… and… I’m feeling pretty damn lousy right now, okay? The last thing I want to be is alone… ‘cooling off’.”

Matt’s eyes widened as she started rolling off everything that was wrong and rather than interrupt her, he just let her go. When she finally concluded, there were a few things that came into his head, but only one of them likely wouldn’t result in upsetting her more. “You want to sit down, then?” He offered, patting a spot beside him on the bed.

“I kinda want to curl up and die, if I’m being honest,” she said, even as she joined him on the bed. “And I am sorry, okay? I really didn’t do it on purpose. I couldn’t check myself in time-- that stupid little bitch ducked at the last possible second.”

“It was certainly not a good night all around, but you have to look at the bright side, you have a rematch and even if she manages to find a sneaky way to retain, you’ve got me as a backup to ensure she doesn’t stay champion for long. People like her, they don’t deserve the happiness like we do and the natural order of things will soon relieve them of their false hope, just you wait.”

“Rematch?” She laughed bitterly, “that’s the last thing on my mind right now, sweetie. I’m worried-- I was worried-- about you. About us. God, I spent the entire time with Harmony crying because I was absolutely convinced that you’d never speak to me again.”

“I’m not sure what’s more insulting” he starts after a moment of contemplation. “That you thought I would break up with you over that match or that you would rather go to her with your problems rather than me.”

Nessa sighed. “Clearly I’m an idiot on all counts.”

“I wouldn’t say all counts,” he offered as a sort of comfort, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “You just need to listen to me more, obviously.” He added as a sort of joke, though clearly he meant it.

“Matthew,” she leaned against him, “I’m so, so sorry-- I’ve got no excuse for assuming the worst. It just seemed fitting that I lose everything that mattered in one fell swoop.”

"Well," he started, pausing slightly to get the words right. "You do have years of experience with people who didn't deserve your attention, it's only natural you think all men are like that. FYI, I'm not."

“Yet everyone was quick to point out how you turned on that last bimbo you were dating over a title shot-- I guess they all wanted to see us crumble. Or they wanted to see me completely self-destruct over a few doubts.” She laughed bitterly, “and I did. God help me, I did exactly what they wanted me to do.”

“That” he started, looking over at her, raising her head so she could look into his eyes. “Is exactly why you should have been listening to me, not to everyone else. They don’t know me, they don’t know us. All they know is that you listen to them, and they know that because you told them. Understand?”

“I do,” the words came out as a whisper, her eyes welling with tears. “Forgive me? Please?”

“If I didn’t forgive you, you wouldn’t be sitting here, though to be fair, you shouldn’t be here at all, you should be in your bed sleeping off the, I’m guessing, bottles of wine you consumed earlier.”

“Bottle.” She replied, folding her arms across her chest, “just one. No friends. My bed sucks,” she paused, looking away as she wiped at her eyes, “because you’re not in it.”

“By that logic, almost all beds suck, save for my own. If you want to be with someone tonight, for comfort, I’m here, but you need to sleep, understand?” His voice was firm, but not without concern.

She nodded, looking sheepish. “I’ll sleep… promise.”

“Do you want me to go to your room to get you anything, then?” He asked, getting up off the bed, gesturing towards the door.

“My toothbrush? I guess… might want that later.” She yawned, kicking off her shoes before stretching out on his bed. Wiggling a little, she smiled up at him, “yours is softer. Seriously.”

“Of course it is, it’s been occupied most of the day, where I imagine yours hasn’t.” He opens the door, heading out so he can fetch her toothbrush and probably her other toiletries so she has them in the morning. It’s not a long walk, especially since he’s sober. Using her key, which he had with him the entire time, he opens the door and goes straight to the bathroom, collecting her items to bring back to the room.

Nessa rolled over and got out of bed, shucking off the jeans she’d been wearing. Her shirt followed before she reached into Matt’s suitcase, helping herself to one of his shirts. It was huge on her, but she didn’t care. Lifting the collar up to her face, she breathed in his scent, letting out an immediate sigh of relief. Maybe, just maybe everything would be okay. Turning back towards the bed, she checked out the pillows and opted for the side where they looked the least disturbed before crawling beneath the covers.

With everything in her pink travelbag, he heads out to the main portion of the room, giving it a quick glance to see if anything stood out to him to take with him. He lingers on the spot on the dresser where she kept the Pride title before, longing for it for just a second before sighing, turning to the door and opening it, heading back out to his own room where she would no doubt be waiting. Opening it, he walks inside and sets the travel bag down by the door. “Make yourself comfor-” he stops as he walks past the bathroom, seeing that she’s already in the bed, clothes on the floor. “Nevermind” he says softly, not sure if she’d already passed out or not. The lack of a response from her makes it pretty clear that she actually has. Checking his watch, he hits the lights and takes off his shirt, getting into the other side of the bed, the only source of light was the muted television from earlier. Whether an instinctive reflex or she was waiting for him, Nessa rolls over and places her head on his chest, Stone’s arm lowering down around her as he watches the television before drifting off to sleep himself.