I wanted to write something as beautiful as "Whiskey Lullabye". I wrote this instead.
Inspired and based off "It's All Coming Back To Me" by Meat Loaf and Marion Raven.
He left in 2005 to pursue a music career.
She retired from wrestling in 2006 as Women's Champion.
They had history together. More than the storyline they had been put in, where he made a bet that he could get her in bed first. There had been actual chemistry between the duo, which lead to a very heated romance off-screen.
Its ending had been messy, with a fight over his leaving the company. She had even tried to keep him there by threatening to end the relationship, but she wasn't the one who severed it. He had, yelling "Fine then!" before leaving the hotel room, slamming the door as he went.
And now they stood, four years later, alone and staring at each other, wondering who would make the first move.
Chris couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.
There she was, as beautiful as ever, within arm's reach. But he didn't dare move. After all, he had been the one who left her. Who had frozen in bed some nights, merely from listening to the wind howling outside his window. No matter how many blankets he had, what the room temperature was, he froze in that empty bed that he had shared with her numerous times.
Because it was his heart that was so cold.
Trish had never cried so much as she had over the man standing before her.
There had been days where she couldn't stop the flow of tears. When crying had worn her out so completely that she fell asleep in the middle of the day and slept right through until morning. It took weeks but, finally, the tears dried up to nothing but dust.
She hadn't cried over him since then. She refused to let herself drown in her sorrow and the loss of such a beautifully tragic thing.
"So this is it, huh?" Chris said, looking around the room, unable to look at the former Diva before him. "Looks like Vince has gone out of his way to make you comfortable."
"What are you doing here?" Trish asked, less than impressed at seeing her former lover. Her arms were crossed as she tried to hold her ground, to keep from doing anything brash or stupid.
"I could ask you the same thing." He retorted, drawing nearer to her. "Couldn't wait to come back and see what's become of Chris Jericho, could you?"
"Glad to see you're just as full of yourself as ever."
Chris smirked, circling around the woman slowly. "Or it's possible you want a taste of what we used to have."
"I shut those memories away a long time ago!" Trish snapped, turning to face the Winnipeg native. "I thought you were history when you slammed the door, and somehow I managed to make myself strong again!"
"Funny, I never wasted any of my time on you since then." He tried to make himself sound so sure, but it came out sounding different. It sounded exactly like the lie it was.
But then again, she had lied first. They both knew it, and that they were acting like fools. Still, their prides were what kept them from admitting the truth: that they were still torn. Time hadn't healed the wounds. Hadn't mended their broken hearts. Hadn't made them forget.
Pride may have been keeping Chris from saying anything, but it wasn't keeping him from doing anything. They were standing face to face, stubbornness keeping them from backing away, which only made this easier for the blond Superstar.
Slowly, carefully, he raised a hand to Trish's face, cupping her cheek in his hand.
Instinctively, she leaned into the touch, her brown eyes closing. It was so familiar to her, like it had only been minutes or even hours since he touched her, instead of years. And just like all those years ago, she rested her hands against his shoulder blades.
It was like they were slipping back in time as Chris's hand went from Trish's cheek to the back of her neck, his other arm snaking around the small of her back. Just like that, he was holding her to him, her head tucked under his chin.
Her resolve broke as she pulled back slightly, feeling weak in the knees and like her stomach was full of butterflies. "I've missed this." She whispered, admitting what she had been denying to herself.
The kiss came so quickly, it was impossible to tell who initiated it. It was soft, tender and full of years of repressed memories. Memories of nights of endless pleasure; of flashes of gold and light. Memories that seemed only like fantasies now.
He barely pulled back when he spoke, his lips brushing against hers as they moved. "I've missed you, babe. Trish."
"Forgive me?"
"Forgive and forget."
"Forgotten."
If you forgive me all this (forgive me all this)
If I forgive you all that (forgive you all that)
We forgive and forget and it's all coming back to me now...