Charlotte Flair sighed and pulled her head away from the cool car window she had been leaning in for the last thirty minutes or so of the drive.
The large SUV her father had allowed them to borrow rumbling along the lonely North Carolina road, surrounded by miles and miles of Red Maple and Loblolly Pine whose leaves had turned into a beautiful collage of fall colors.
As the sunset lit up the sky Charlotte peered to her left towards the driver of the car, and best friend Becky Lynch.
As poor as she was at showing it, she was eternal grateful for the redheaded Irish woman entering her life when she had.
Being the daughter of the CEO of Flair Enterprises was hard enough, but adding in the death of her brother Reid making her next in line to take over the family business had added an insane amount of weight on her shoulders. A weight that may have caused her to crumble had it not been for Becky accidentally walking into the wrong class on their first day at college.
Charlotte had been nervous walking into her first ever class in a public setting. Her father had insisted on having the most expensive teachers he could have flown in, effectively keeping her sheltered from any sort of normalcy which contributed to her fighting so hard to attend a public university, rather than one of the Ivy League schools Ric had planned on sending her to.
The anxiety of being around so many people made her sit as far back as possible inside the large lecture Hall. Settling into one of the plastic chairs and placing her backpack on to the empty seat next to her. Pulling her laptop out and meticulously preparing herself for the start of the lecture.
After several minutes of waiting Charlotte let out of breath of relief that no one had set near her, which, considering that only about two thirds of the seats were filled it wasn't too crazy that no one sat next to her in reality.
Professor Ronnie Garvin made his way slowly over to the podium center stage and began to speak in a monotone voice that was about as exciting as the day one material he droned on about.
The door to Charlotte's right quietly squeaked as it open slowly, the person on the other side obviously trying to make as little noise as possible.
Charlotte tried to refocus your attention on to the old white haired man up front, but his reiteration of what had already been written in the syllabus caused the Flair prodigy to lose interest. Having already familiarized herself with the entirety of his syllabus last night.
Her attention wavered back towards the door when a striking shade of deep red begin to grow larger in the corner of her eye.
"'Ello there lass. You savin' that seat fer anyone?" The heavily Irish accent and whisper coming from this newcomer pulling Charlotte's attention fully.
As the stranger had drawn near Charlotte could feel her pulse begin to pick up. The anxiety that had been following her since she arrived on campus spiking at the prospect of suddenly having to interact with someone outside of her family, or the few business partners her father trusted enough to actually introduce to his family.
"I 'ope you would do me the honor of lettin' me sit next to the cutest lass in 'ere," she continued before Charlotte could form a response. Brown eyes sparkling with delight, and a bright smile shining with an openness that helped some of Charlotte's anxiety melt away. At least to the point where she could actually open her lips to form words.
"I wasn't saving it for anyone. You can take it," Charlotte offered, pulling her bag off the seat and placing it on the floor near her feet.
The Irish woman plops down into the newly open seat and immediately kicked her booted feet up on the empty chair in front of her period not even bothering to pull anything out of the backpack she'd been carrying, she leaned in closer enough so that Charlotte could feel the warmth of the breath on her shoulder, "Not even a mention of me callin' ya the cutest lass in the room? Damn, mus' be losin' me touch."
Her father's words about being careful who you trust suddenly echoed through her mind. Questioning this woman's intentions and why she would even try to flirt with her, since Charlotte was so obviously straight and her pick up line was so obviously false. Looking around the room she could see at least three women that were objectively more pretty than she was, "Whatever you want from me, you can just forget. I'm straight anyway, so just back off."
Having expected a quick response from the woman Charlotte was a little surprised when none came.
She risked a glance sideways and saw the other woman staring into her lap and nervously picking at her cuticles, "'M sorry. Din't mean to offend you or nuttin'. I feel 'orrible making such a pretty face look uncomfortable. Could we just—"
"Stop doing that!" Charlotte hissed out of the corner of her mouth.
"Doin' wha'?" Came the confused reply.
"Lying."
"Bout wha'?"
Charlotte groaned, "Your shitty pickup lines."
"You t'ink I din't mean it?" The fact that her voice sounded genuinely hurt piqued Charlotte's interest and began the faint rumblings of doubt for her initial assumptions of the thirties this woman.
"Of course you didn't," Charlotte confidently stated, before cracking just slightly, "Right?"
An unhappy chuckle came out of the other woman as she shook her head in disbelief, "Remind me ta hit whoever made ya so cynical someday. Some clearly messed up if you can't see 'ow stunnin' you are."
The words sounded so genuine that the doubt grew even larger.
"Sorry. I know ya said yer straight an all, but I'm honestly a bit sad you would t'ink I was lyin' bout that."
Charlotte found herself momentarily speechless from the impromptu speech.
"I can leave if you wan'. I don' want ya feeling awkward or nuttin," she whispered, shifting her body to indicate that she was ready to move at her word. Both hands placed on the armrests, prepared to push herself up and out of the seat.
Face with the reality that she may have misjudged this woman and ended up pushing away a potential ally in this new environment Charlotte sprang into action. Placing her hand on top of the strangers and whispering back, "You can stay… If you want."
While clearly still tense the Irish woman relaxed slightly and settled back into the seat. Her intense brown eyes moving to stare at where Charlotte's hand still laid on top of her own.
Following her gaze, Charlotte blushed and swiftly withdrew her hand, "I didn't mean anything by that. Like I said, I'm—"
"Straight. I know. You've mentioned it once or twice."
Charlotte felt an irrational need to defend herself, "I don't have any problems if you are gay, but I just don't want to lead you on."
The other woman held up her hands to show she meant no harm, "It's all good blondie. Just give me a momen' to recover from being turned down by a lass as beautiful as you. Then I can switch gears an' we can try maybe bein' friends," a hopeful tone coming through her last words.
Despite her early misgivings Charlotte really did want to try and make friends while at college and her defenses began to cave in, "I don't even know your name."
"Rebecca." Came the immediate response, "But I only let the smartest and most stunnin' ladies get away with callin' me that. Although if you insist on not countin' yerself amongst that illustrious company you can always just call me Becky."
Charlotte couldn't help but shake her head at the Irish woman's tenacity, "You just don't give up. Do you Becky?"
Becky smiled sadly, "As long as it takes."
Stunned by the essentially still stranger's kindness and positivity Charlotte had a hard time understanding the rush of emotions that overcame her when she gazed into Becky's eyes and saw the depth of honesty and care pointed her way.
Before she could respond professor Garvin's voice boomed out, "Would either one of you two want to explain what is so important you needed to speak over me?"
When Charlotte turned her head to see all the other students staring back towards them she froze.
Luckily Becky took the initiative and began to explain, "Sorry Professor. I just realized I was in the wrong class and she was jus' bein' polite and explainin' that to me."
Professor Garvin took a moment but seem to accept the answer and continue his excruciatingly tedious reading of the syllabus.
As she gathered her bag Charlotte turned back to her and whispered once again, "Wait! How can I get a hold of you?"
Becky flashed her a wide smile as she stood up, "Just look down."
Odd as the request was Charlotte shifted her gaze downwards and saw blue sticky note attached to her laptop that had not been there just seconds ago.
She read the hastily scrawled note, 'Rebecca, 2:30 pm, Tea at North Courtyard,' with a tiny heart etched underneath that had Charlotte rolling her eyes at the redhead's persistence.
Peering back up from the note she caught Becky's gaze as she was walking out the door. A cheeky wink and wry smile making Charlotte's stomach flip. Returning the gesture with a tiny smile at her own.
As the door had closed Charlotte put the encounter to the back for mind and tried to focus back on to the professors boring words.
That proved difficult when a certain face and Irish accent continued to cross her mind throughout the remaining 30 minutes of tedious lecture.
"Yer thinkin' awfully hard there Ms. Flair. Care to share?" Becky asked from the driver's seat. Pulling Charlotte back into the present.
Charlotte grinned over at her best friend, "Just remembering how we first met."
Becky's hearty laughter filled the vehicle, "Five years later and I still haven't got ya ta call me Rebecca even once."
She shook her head in disbelief that after five years this woman was still pursuing a goal Charlotte had informed her wouldn't happen, "Is that your only takeaway from that day?"
"I 'ad some other things, but if I recall you didn't wan' to hear 'em."
The blush that stained Charlotte's cheeks made it obvious Becky's words still affected her to this day, "Stop it."
The Irish woman's grin widened while she kept her eyes on the empty road in front, "Stop what?"
"Could both of you just stop the bullshit and just—" came the irritated voice of one of the two women's friends that were accompanying them on this mini vacation.
Her voice abruptly being cut off and muffled by the brunette that had previously been sleeping peacefully, "What Sasha means to say is could you please keep your voices down," crying out suddenly in shock, "Did you just lick my hand?"
The action had caused Bailey's hand to snap back to her side, the all too proud grin on Sasha's face now pointed at her, "If you have such a problem with it, don't cover my mouth. simple as that," she leaned in close to stage whisper, "Besides I thought you like it when I—"
"Ok! Ok, you win," Bayley quickly interrupted before Sasha could continue along that particular line of thought.
Sasha smiled and settled back into her seat. Content in her victory openly displayed through Bayley's obvious embarrassment of her bringing up their relationship.
"How can you possibly tease us over something that doesn't exist, get anytime I make fun of you and Bayley for being overly cute I get yelled at?"
Focused as the blonde was on the two passengers in the rear, she failed to catch the Irish woman flinching and slumping down in her chair upon hearing Charlotte's dismissive phrasing.
"Because I can," Sasha flippantly replied.
Rolling her eyes in exasperation at the pink haired woman's attitude, Charlotte turned back around in her seat and chuckled to herself.
With her own positive attitude in conjunction with the lightheartedness from Sasha and Bailey, it was relatively easy to tell that something was bothering the silent Irish woman, "Hey Bex. You feeling alright?" Concern etched into her features as she stared across towards her friend and current driver.
Becky was quick to shoot down any worry, "'Tis nuttin' lass. Just tryin' to pay attention to the road. I t'ink the turns supposed to be comin' up soon."
Bayley frowned at the quick exchange and began to open her mouth, only to shut it when Sasha shook her head and silently mouthed, 'It's her choice.'
Unhappy as she was by the way things were developing Bayley conceded and remain silent.
Becky was simply relieved that Charlotte seemed to drop it, and was searching the dashboard for the map they had got to help lead them to the old Flair cabin that was settled deep in the North Carolina woods, at the foot of the Appalachian Mountains.
Internally she was berating herself for failing to hide how much Charlotte's dismissal of anything between them had stung.
It had been the consistent story for the last five years.
As hard as Becky had tried to capture the statuesque blonde's romantic attention, Charlotte equal need to live up to her father's legacy and gain his attention had blinded her to most pursuits outside of class. Which in turn thwarted Becky's attempts to get the woman to be actually interested in her.
Not that she hadn't tried to move on. After getting nowhere through their first year at college, Becky had resigned herself trying to be the best friend she could be and forget her own selfish pursuit.
Of course, that had only ended up working so well, for so long.
She gave herself credit for lasting the next 2 years or so, before those old feelings came back stronger than ever.
The inciting incident was almost comically inevitable in hindsight.
Of course, someone as gorgeous as Charlotte would gather her share of admirers, that weren't Becky herself.
Becky could say now that she had become complacent and naive back then. But after Charlotte turned down every potential suitor for their freshman year, always citing that she was far too busy for a relationship right now, Becky had begun simply assuming that the trend of continual rejection would continue into the future.
The assumed knowledge gave Becky a sense of relief that she tried not to think about given how hard she was trying to be a great friend to the woman who seem to have far too much weight on her shoulders at such a young age.
That comforting blanket of naivete was ripped away when seemingly out of the blue Charlotte had accepted an invitation to dinner with none other than Roman Reigns. The man who happened to be both an annoyingly intelligent and polite man, while also being one of the star defensive players on the school's football team.
Becky had earnestly tried to hate the man, but after Charlotte had ranted and raved about how caring and cute he had been after their first date she realize that hating him out of spite would end up inadvertently hurting Charlotte.
So, despite the voice in her head screaming and jealousy that she had been caring for all this time and wasn't she cuter than silly old Roman, she gave her honest approval provided he continued to be as good as Charlotte had claimed. After all, it would be selfish for her to expect Charlotte to never date someone just because she had a crush on the blonde since she had accidentally walked into Professor Garvin's lecture and saw her sitting all alone in the back.
Things only got harder when the two actually had begun to get serious, after about a month of getting to know each other through the occasional date. With their schedules both being so hectic it had initially been hard for the two to spend much time together. Leaving Becky to take no small amount of joy from swooping in to steal as much time for just herself and Charlotte as she could.
Unfortunately, with the new semester came new schedules.
Schedules that Charlotte and Roman had painstakingly pored over in order to maximize their time together.
Becky had been a little blindsided by the arrangement, especially given how she in Charlotte had been doing the exact same thing for the last few semesters and she was under the assumption they would continue to do so.
"'Ello Charlie. You all set fer pickin' our classes?" Becky questioned excitedly upon entering their shared off campus apartment and seeing her roommate lounging on the couch.
Charlotte immediately had a hard time making eye contact, "Oh right… About that. Me and Roman actually already did that yesterday."
Becky tried unsuccessfully to hide her disappointment but being friends for years came with its up's and downs, and Charlotte could read her easily, "I don't want you to think this means we won't see each other, but Roman and I agreed that if we really want to give this a shot we have to be serious and try to accommodate each other. I mean we barely saw each other with how busy we both are," Charlotte tried to defuse the tension with a throwaway joke, "Someone probably would have thought we were dating considering how much we were together," laughing loudly at her own joke, "How crazy would that be?"
Even after lowering her expectations and accepting, at least on some level, that Charlotte would never be hers, hearing the desire of her wildest dreams so calmly and certainly shoot down whatever miniscule vestiges of hope she had left hit her harder than she could have expected.
As much as her suddenly fractured heart protested, Becky forced herself to stand her ground and put on a brave face to stop Charlotte from feeling any guilt over her own state, "That would be pretty crazy. No hard feelin's though. Yous two just doin' what ya t'ink is best. I couldn't fault ya fer goin' after what ya want Charlie. What would that make me?"
The relieved smile Charlotte sent her way momentarily dulled the pain in her heart, "You're the best. You know that right Becky?" Wrapping the Irish woman in quick hug before walking back to the door leading to her bedroom.
Unable to hold her tongue any longer Becky called out, "Call me Rebecca."
The blonde's hand stalled on the doorknob, "What are you going on about Becky?"
"Say my name."
Charlotte turned to look at her like she was a crazy person, "You okay Bex?"
"Why won't you just say it?" Becky had called out. Convinced that Charlotte was feigning ignorance of what this meant.
Charlotte's eyes narrowed as she looked at Becky with an anger that had never before been directed towards her friend, "I'm going out to meet Roman," she coldly declared. Changing direction and grabbing her leather jacket while moving towards the front door, "Don't wait up for me."
The wooden door resoundingly slamming closed on both their apartment and the last tiny sliver of hope that Becky seemingly had left.
Fleeting moments of interaction during the following month were filled with awkwardness and unease. The transition to their new schedules definitely cause them to see each other less, but it seemed clear thatvCharlotte was actively avoiding spending any more time than necessary in Becky's general vicinity.
For the first time ever the two had none of the same classes or even time periods Becky reckoned that she could count the number of times she'd seen the blonde between both of her hands.
Which is why she thought nothing about returning to her apartment after the one night class that she had, the same as she had for the last month period. Charlotte never being either awake or at home when she arrived.
On this particular night the soft orange and red glow of candles peeked through a crack in the door to Charlotte's bedroom.
Her feet moved as if they had a life of their own. Tiptoeing closer to the door. She spotted why the door hadn't closed, one of Charlotte's slinkier black bras having been haphazardly discarded and landing just perfectly so that it stopped the door from being able to fully seal closed.
Understanding dawned on her of what was obviously happening inside, and she slowly had begun to back away when the sound of breathy voice is made their way outside the door way that the two must have assumed was fully shut.
"You are so amazing Char."
Becky's jaw tightened at the softly spoken words. Trying her best to speed up her retreat as best she could while maintaining her silence.
"How do you always make me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world?"
"Its easy when it's true."
"I think I might love you—"
Unable to listen any longer and not willing to intrude on what was obviously such a personal moment, Becky turned and dropped all pretense of trying to stay quiet.
She couldn't spend another second in the suddenly stifling apartment. The atmosphere seeming to thin out to the point where Becky had trouble bringing in fresh gulps of air.
Luckily, she hadn't taken her shoes off prior, so she was able to move to the front door, still struggling to pull in any new breath. Her chest feeling as if a five hundred pound man with a bald head was sitting directly on top. Caving in her rib cage and making it impossible to breathe.
It took several attempts to get the door knob turning, her palms so sweaty that they continually slipped off the shiny brass knob. When she finally did get it to unlock the soft but unmistakable voice of Charlotte reached her, "Becky? You home?"
Unsure of what to do or say when her world felt like the ground underneath her was slowly falling away.
"It was probably just one of the neighbors. Don't worry your sweet little head over it."
"I can't tell if that was an insult or a compliment."
Roman's answering laughter seemed to mock Becky's morose mood as she quickly snuck out of the apartment and locked the door behind her.
Thinking back on it now Becky could admit that she had reacted quite poorly in the moment. Which would end up spiraling out of control for several weeks until a chance meeting with the pink haired woman currently in the backseat helped set herself on a better road than the one she had been dangerously flirting with.
