Shine On Me [Trinity 2.0 #1]
Jun 15, 2020 21:42:08 GMT -5
Post by Admin on Jun 15, 2020 21:42:08 GMT -5
She felt a strange sort of restlessness, couldn't keep her foot from wiggling where it hung over the edge of the mattress. It had gone from a desert, from a complete lack of bookings and bites to the baited hooks she had out there in all the promising little ponds that appealed to her most sadistic impulses – she refused to accept what someone had said online, refused to swallow the bitter pill that turning her back on Action Wrestling had been a mistake. She'd had two matches with Chasing Glory Wrestling before it had rolled up the sidewalks and padlocked the doors. She barely saw action in CK's company and she'd only gone there out of a skewed sense of nostalgia. They'd been close once upon a time, in the time before her untimely demise. She knew holding those ephemeral sentimental ties close was going to be the end of her; she knew this deep down to her bones.
Maintaining the illusion of being a functional human being was getting harder by the day and her natural tendency to withdraw into herself was being fed and fostered by what was going on in the world. She'd started to drift, to become an island unto herself. The MadClan had tried to pique her interest and she could barely focus. A new company had sprung up, one that thought Carnivore was the leader of the pack and she’d gone along for the ride, signing her contract late because she’d actually forgotten about it. She knew she couldn't fake that solidarity forever. Eventually the contempt would creep through.
Hunter watched her fidget, watched her scroll idly through her phone before letting the screen go dark. He knew there was something going on inside that head of hers but he knew better than to pry.
She could feel his eyes on her, finding a strange sort of comfort in that familiar feeling. She remembered the first time she'd felt the weight of that gaze. She'd had to have him from the moment she'd laid eyes on him across that smoke-filled karaoke bar. He'd been chalking up a pool cue, his eyes cold and predatory as they surveyed the layout of the balls on the table – she'd known he was a kindred soul even then. She'd felt the pull the moment their eyes had locked and like an absolute idiot, had denied it for the better part of a decade.
"Stop it," she muttered, flipping her hair from her face with one hand, belying her irritation.
He inclined his head, saying nothing.
"Stop being so damned reasonable."
"Can't help it." His voice came out soft, smoothing the rough edges more effectively than the hand that ran possessively down her back to pull her closer even as she resisted.
Kitty pulled away and got up, no pretenses of modesty as she reached for the stretched-out sweater on the floor. Pulling it over her head, she picked up the metal cigarette case off the bedside table, making her way through the bedroom without turning on the lights. She continued on through to the kitchen and propped open the door with her foot, sparking the cheap lighter before she'd even finished pulling one of the joints out with her teeth.
It bothered her. Everything had changed in the blink of an eye the moment she'd cut ties with OCW. Trinity had been a blessing. That first tournament had been a testament to the fact that she hadn't lost a step and while their golden boy Thomas Snow had managed to eke out a win in the end, she felt as though she'd made the biggest impact. She'd felt almost invincible there despite the fact that she was only booked once a month. She'd actually mourned that closure that had set the tone for everything since and the moment she'd seen that post on Twitter, she'd felt like a life raft had been thrown her way. Blessed clarity had washed over her in an instant – this was meant to be. This was what she'd been waiting for, the salvation of dry land after a year of floundering.
Now that the wheels were in motion, now that the revival tournament was expanding from eight to sixteen, she wasn't so sure. Now that she was looking at the prospect of facing the friendly giant Pasha before the brackets were even drawn, she felt that doubt clawing at her insides. Was she still on that level? Was she good enough?
She wanted him to tell her to stop chasing former glory.
Instead, he'd told her that he thought being a stooge for Carnivore and Christina was the bigger mistake. She wasn't meant to be a follower. She was the warrior woman, the seasoned veteran. She was far more decorated than the other two put together, even if Action Wrestling had failed to recognize that truth.
"Their loss," she murmured, so preoccupied that she almost choked on the first inhale. She waited out the tickle, feeling that urge to cough build and then wane before she finally exhaled.
"You're right." Hunter's voice came from behind her. He hadn't meant to go silent on her, but he couldn't bring himself to fight with her when she wanted an accomplice for her self-destruction. It was his job to protect her from that, after all.
She tossed her hair out of her face, turning towards him. Her lips quirked in a crooked smirk as she held out the joint to him, admiring how good he looked with his mussed-up hair. "Sweetest words ever," she grinned, loving the affirmation.
"They don't see you as the best thing to ever happen to them, you force them to open their eyes. Shove it down their throats, make the fuckers choke. Otherwise? Yeah. Their loss." Hunter chuckled as he took a hit. His free hand rested over hers as he handed it back, possessive and proud. "Spotlight belongs to you, Kit. Always has. Always will."
Maintaining the illusion of being a functional human being was getting harder by the day and her natural tendency to withdraw into herself was being fed and fostered by what was going on in the world. She'd started to drift, to become an island unto herself. The MadClan had tried to pique her interest and she could barely focus. A new company had sprung up, one that thought Carnivore was the leader of the pack and she’d gone along for the ride, signing her contract late because she’d actually forgotten about it. She knew she couldn't fake that solidarity forever. Eventually the contempt would creep through.
Hunter watched her fidget, watched her scroll idly through her phone before letting the screen go dark. He knew there was something going on inside that head of hers but he knew better than to pry.
She could feel his eyes on her, finding a strange sort of comfort in that familiar feeling. She remembered the first time she'd felt the weight of that gaze. She'd had to have him from the moment she'd laid eyes on him across that smoke-filled karaoke bar. He'd been chalking up a pool cue, his eyes cold and predatory as they surveyed the layout of the balls on the table – she'd known he was a kindred soul even then. She'd felt the pull the moment their eyes had locked and like an absolute idiot, had denied it for the better part of a decade.
"Stop it," she muttered, flipping her hair from her face with one hand, belying her irritation.
He inclined his head, saying nothing.
"Stop being so damned reasonable."
"Can't help it." His voice came out soft, smoothing the rough edges more effectively than the hand that ran possessively down her back to pull her closer even as she resisted.
Kitty pulled away and got up, no pretenses of modesty as she reached for the stretched-out sweater on the floor. Pulling it over her head, she picked up the metal cigarette case off the bedside table, making her way through the bedroom without turning on the lights. She continued on through to the kitchen and propped open the door with her foot, sparking the cheap lighter before she'd even finished pulling one of the joints out with her teeth.
It bothered her. Everything had changed in the blink of an eye the moment she'd cut ties with OCW. Trinity had been a blessing. That first tournament had been a testament to the fact that she hadn't lost a step and while their golden boy Thomas Snow had managed to eke out a win in the end, she felt as though she'd made the biggest impact. She'd felt almost invincible there despite the fact that she was only booked once a month. She'd actually mourned that closure that had set the tone for everything since and the moment she'd seen that post on Twitter, she'd felt like a life raft had been thrown her way. Blessed clarity had washed over her in an instant – this was meant to be. This was what she'd been waiting for, the salvation of dry land after a year of floundering.
Now that the wheels were in motion, now that the revival tournament was expanding from eight to sixteen, she wasn't so sure. Now that she was looking at the prospect of facing the friendly giant Pasha before the brackets were even drawn, she felt that doubt clawing at her insides. Was she still on that level? Was she good enough?
She wanted him to tell her to stop chasing former glory.
Instead, he'd told her that he thought being a stooge for Carnivore and Christina was the bigger mistake. She wasn't meant to be a follower. She was the warrior woman, the seasoned veteran. She was far more decorated than the other two put together, even if Action Wrestling had failed to recognize that truth.
"Their loss," she murmured, so preoccupied that she almost choked on the first inhale. She waited out the tickle, feeling that urge to cough build and then wane before she finally exhaled.
"You're right." Hunter's voice came from behind her. He hadn't meant to go silent on her, but he couldn't bring himself to fight with her when she wanted an accomplice for her self-destruction. It was his job to protect her from that, after all.
She tossed her hair out of her face, turning towards him. Her lips quirked in a crooked smirk as she held out the joint to him, admiring how good he looked with his mussed-up hair. "Sweetest words ever," she grinned, loving the affirmation.
"They don't see you as the best thing to ever happen to them, you force them to open their eyes. Shove it down their throats, make the fuckers choke. Otherwise? Yeah. Their loss." Hunter chuckled as he took a hit. His free hand rested over hers as he handed it back, possessive and proud. "Spotlight belongs to you, Kit. Always has. Always will."
