I was rereading over this and just couldn't help but notice all of the mistakes that I've made. It was probably a dumb decision, but I thought I would rewrite and not only fix the mistakes, but make the story better. I feel as though my writing style as improved over the years, so I might be able to make this more than it once was.
Please review and let me know what you guys think. It would be greatly appreciated.
~ Chapter 1 – Waking Up ~
The sound of a car honk was enough to wake Candice Michelle out of a deep slumber, her chocolate brown eyes flying open at the sudden, loud sound, only for her to quickly close them, the bright light seeping through the curtains too intense for her unready orbs. Groaning, Candice rolled over and buried her head in the pillow, an aching throb in her temples taking over her sleepy thoughts. She had never felt as miserable as she did right then, and she vowed to herself that she'd never pick up another alcoholic beverage again. Candice sighed and tried to organize her muddled thoughts long enough to remember exactly what happened last night. Her memories were scattered, sort of like an assortment of puzzle pieces – it was all there, but without the full picture, it was hard to tell what to search for. Coming to the conclusion that it was just too early for her enervated brain to come up with a logical answer for her whereabouts the previous evening Candice decided that a shower was probably the next best option since sleep wasn't any more now that she was awake. Slowly sitting up, the brunette eased her eyes open, allowing the light to momentarily blind her before getting them adjusted to the bright rays. It was then that Candice notice that she was naked. Gasping, she grabbed one of the many blankets on the bed and covered herself, wrapping it around her as her eyes then took in the sight of the hotel room she was in. Clothes were strewn all over the floor and on some of the furniture, shoes tossed about the room in a careless fashion. The place was a complete mess – something that Candice would never allow in her hotel room.
Something caught her eyes, though – besides the disarray of clothing that littered the floor – and as she slowly got up, being mindful about the pounding in her head and the brightness of the room – Candice made her way to it. There was a shirt that was tossed on the armchair by the big bay window, a very familiar shirt that was screaming out in recognition, but due to her fatigue, it wasn't registering as fast as it would have on a regular basis. Reaching out, Candice took a hold of the shirt and it was then did it click. The surprise was unmistakable, but not only was there that, but the confusion of it all came, as well. Why on earth would his shirt be in my room? Candice thought as her brows furrowed, her hands dropping the shirt back on the armchair in disgust. Deciding again that there were just too many questions for such a foggy morning, Candice yawned and rubbed her temple as she turned back around to head to the bathroom only for her to gasp when her chocolate brown eyes fell on yet another surprise.
Lying on the other side of the bed, his face half buried in the pillow was none other than Randy Orton.
There was a minute of complete shock as Candice stared at the sleeping form of Randy as though she couldn't believe what she was seeing – and she couldn't. She had absolutely no idea why Orton was occupying half of her bed and, to be totally honest, she didn't really want to find out. In doing so would reveal a night she obviously shared with the man and she didn't know if she could stomach finding out the details. Randy moaned and rolled over, the covers sliding down even more, exposing a chiseled chest, a mouthwatering six-pack that any girl – minus Candice – would drool over, and those jutting hipbones, the V-cut that was oh so visible, teasing, but not divulging in what lied beneath that blanket. It was only after looking over Orton that Candice realized that, like her, he was completely naked, which brought on a new question – What in the hell did we do?
Lifting her left hand up to rub her temple, Candice was left with one more huge surprise – sitting on her ring finger was a wedding band and an engagement ring, glistening whenever the light touched it.
"Oh, my God," Candice shrieked. It was impossible to contain the sheer panic that was welling up inside of her right then, threatening to spill over at any given moment. "What the hell!"
Jumping with a start, lurching up into a sitting position, Randy groaned and grabbed his head, glaring in aggravation at the woman who woke him. "What the fuck!"
No words could escape through the brunette's lips as she stared at the two rings that employed a very sacred finger. Her mind was running a million miles a minute, her stomach compressing and untightening in a very disorienting motion, that Candice was certain she was going to throw up her bodily contents all over the cold, oak floor beneath her bare feet.
With her face blanching several shades, the man still residing in the huge bed must have finally come to the conclusion that something was most definitely not right. Even still, that didn't stop Randy from straightening his posture, his icy, pale blue eyes casting a hard look at the woman wrapped in a beige blanket, standing in the center of the room.
"Candice, what in the hell is going on here?" His voice was stipulating and angry sounding as he peered over at the brunette, the need for answers driving at him. When he received no answer in reply, Orton sighed impatiently and ran a hand over his face. She was obviously in shock over something – probably because I woke up before she could sneak out of the hotel room, Randy thought, but right after he had that contemplation, a strange feeling came over him. Furrowing his brow, Orton pulled his head out of his hands and gaped at the astonishment at what he saw before him.
Resting on his left hand, wrapped around his ring finger was a thick, silver band.
"Candice, what in the hell is going on here!" Clamping a hand over his mouth after his shocking outburst, Randy tore his eyes away from the disk around his finger and turned his attention momentarily to Candice, who slowly sunk down into a nearby chair, her eyes still giving a faraway expression. Looking back at the wedding ring wrapped around his finger, Randy could feel his inhalations increasing with each passing second. "Oh my, God … oh my, God ... my God, my God … what the fuck happened!"
"I don't know what happened, Randy," Candice replied, her voice shaking and full of unrecognizable fear. She had no idea what had happened and, the more she strained herself to remember, the more Candice realized that she couldn't. The retentions of last night were blank and impassive; as though she had been knocked in the head, her memory wiped clean. And though she certainly felt as though she had been bashed in the head, the brunette was fairly confident that that was not the case.
"You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?" Turning his head sharply in her direction, Randy's eyes narrowed into thinner slits, his entire body as still as a Greek statue. Like Candice, Orton couldn't recall a single thing that happened last night. A part of him – a very dominant part – was kind of thankful for that. If having no memory at all saved him from remembering what they did that night then Randy was all for it. There was that nagging sensation, however, that kept him from disregarding and overlooking it altogether.
Suspecting a fight coming along, Candice reached up and rubbed her delicate temple, her eyes falling shut once again to recoup some of her sanity. In all honesty, Candice Michelle felt like she was losing it completely, as though she was only dreaming and that she would wake up at any given second and laugh off this incredibly vivid dream. But deep down, the brunette knew that it wasn't a dream … that she wasn't going to be laughing anything off. And it was with that thought in mind that weakened Candice, wearing her down instantly.
Not taking her silence kindly, Randy carelessly threw the covers off of his body and sprang to his feet, unaware that there was nothing shielding the rest of his naked body. Of course, the man was too far gone, too exasperated to notice, which was why he continued ranting.
"Look at me, damn it! What the fuck did you do!" Storming around the huge bed, Orton's eyes remained locked on Candice, who simply stared at him with a blank, wary countenance. The dubious expression only seemed to anger Randy all the more. A deep growl emanating from deep within his throat, the man marching closer, standing right in front of Candice's sitting frame. "Snap out of it, bitch, and tell me what you did! What the fuck happened! Why in the holy hell do I have this ring on my fucking finger!"
Suppressing a sigh, Candice closed her eyes and shook her head before looking up at the fuming man before her. Her brown irises – though tired – never wavered from Orton's as she glared at him. "Put some clothes on for God's sake."
Candice could feel Randy suddenly tense, his entire body immobilizing as he took in her words, rolling them around before finally digesting them. He didn't need to look down to see if Candice was telling the truth or not. With his anger aside and the adrenaline decelerating, Orton could feel the smoothness of his skin, as well as the coolness of the room, the air conditioner against the wall doing a marvelous job at keeping the entire area chilly. Clearing his throat, trying to keep what dignity he had left, Randy slowly turned around and made his way to the bathroom, the soles of his feet treading heavily across the oak flooring as he grabbed his bag before walking into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. It wasn't long before Candice heard the cracking sound, followed by shattering pieces of glass falling onto the counter and in the sink, and the brunette knew that Orton had probably just plowed his fist into the mirror.
Following Randy's lead, Candice slowly stood to her feet and made her way across the room. After unzipping her bag – which was resting on the couch with the rest of her and Randy's bags – the brunette pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt. She barely remembered putting on her clothes, her mind still numb over the revolution of the discovery. She couldn't even bring herself to admitting what had happened; she was too afraid of her reaction when she actually did. No, for now, it was probably best if she just allowed herself to fully process what had occurred last night. Candice was scared, she was in shock, and that was probably why she couldn't recall anything that happened. When she gave herself the chance to calm down and to relax, maybe then would she be able to figure out what the hell went down and how to fix the mistake, but until then …
"Alright, start talking," Randy said as he stormed out of the bathroom adorned in a pair of loose-fitting jeans. Tossing his bag on top of the rest of their bags, his icy eyes remained clinched on her brown orbs. His right fist – which he used as a weapon against the bathroom mirror – was throbbing, as was his head, but at the moment, a fear so compelling was taking over all of what he was feeling. It was something he had never felt before and, quite frankly, it was something he never wanted to experience again. Randy was close to completely losing it and it took a lot to make Orton absolutely terrified. "No games, no snippy remarks – just tell me what you did."
"You really think I had something to do with this?" Candice laughed pitifully. It was either that or crying, and there was no way she was going to give Orton the privilege of seeing her cry. Instead, Candice turned around and started pacing back and forth along the length of the room, her eyes on the floor. "I don't know what happened last night. I don't remember anything."
"Right and you expect me to believe that?"
"I don't really give a damn what you believe, Orton," She shot the man an annoyed look to match the tone of her voice. Despite their grievances and their complete hate for one another – and as shocked as she felt by thinking this – Candice knew that it was probably best if they were on the same page. Of course, that meant she would now have to convince him to think the same way if they wanted to figure out what and how … this … happened. "Look, Randy, I know we don't get along and I know we wouldn't really give a damn if either of us got hit by a bus, but I'm telling the truth. I don't know what happened. What I do know is that we'd have to be pretty damn drunk to actually get–"
"Don't say it," Groaning, Randy sank down on the bed and rubbed his eyes before burying his head in his hands. The more he thought, the more vigorous the pounding in his temples became. He felt pitiful and helpless to the crisis.
"No, Randy, we need to talk about this," She shocked herself as she pressed forward, turning her entire body around to focus on the man sitting on the bed – a bed they had both woken up in … completely naked. Clearing her throat, Candice pushed those disconcerting thoughts to the back of her head. "We got married last night. We need to get this straightened out. We can't put it off."
"I'm not putting this off, Candice," Randy growled, his eyes narrowing into those venomous slits. "My head is killing me right now and, without the proper medication, I'm not going to be talking anything out."
With a retort on the tip of her tongue, it took almost everything the brunette had not to lash out and curse Orton out right then and there. What would it solve? Sure, it would make her feel a bit better about their situation, but it wouldn't help. It wouldn't change the fact that they were married. It wouldn't anything at all. And as much as she hated it – especially when it came to Orton – sometimes ignoring him and being the bigger person was considered necessary.
Letting out an incensed sigh, Candice ran a hand through her hair and nodded her head. She had to admit, he did have a point. Her temples were throbbing painfully and forcing herself to remembering what happened last night wasn't doing her any justice at all. "Okay – you're right. But we need to talk about this."
"I know."
The impending silence that followed was full of tension and a lot of awkwardness. With Candice looking at anything that wasn't Randy, said man had his eyes trained on the floor, his motives similar to Candice's. Both had a lot on their minds, a lot to sort out. The brunette, however, couldn't handle sorting those feelings out with Orton right there. She needed to be alone. Going back to her bag, Candice slowly started to make her way to the bathroom, tossing an excuse over her shoulder before disappearing into the lavatory before closing the door behind her.
So that's the first chapter. How did I do? Better than the first version, I hope. This is dedicated to Courtney!
