Author's Note: So, here's a new story! Sorry that I haven't updated the other story; I'm stuck in a rut with it but hopefully it won't be long until I can finish it. Anyway, enjoy! :)
He stared at her with cold green eyes, unable to believe what she was saying. His jaw tightened with every word and his fists curled up by his sides. She looked up at him; her 5'5" frame was no match to his 6'10" stature. Her eyes lowered and her bottom lip trembled with fear. She was certain he was going to hit her.
The words 'I cheated on you,' echoed in his mind. They haunted him. They mocked him. How could he be so foolish? Why didn't he see this before? His mind raced and he sighed. She had lied to him. He wouldn't be able to forgive her. He couldn't. A leopard never changes its spots. He mused about that thought for a little while until his eyes rested upon her slender form.
His stare intensified, watching her movements carefully. Every time he moved his hand slightly she flinched. "Look at me," he ordered softly. With jerky motions she lifted up her head and met his gaze, seeing hurt in those precious green pools. He unclenched one of his fists and cupped her chin gently. She looked away, not being able to live with what she done to him. "Why do you think I'm going to hit you, Jaymie?"
"I... I can see the hurt, an- and... anger in your eyes." Her voice raw, her words stuttered. She pulled away and walked over to their sofa, her head resting in her hands. "I didn't mean to Mark." The tears flowed freely down her reddened cheeks, staining them further with black mascara and eyeliner.
Tattooed arms folded across his broad chest, his eyes firmly locked on Jaymie. He honestly couldn't believe that she thought he would hit her. He made it perfectly clear at the start of their relationship that he thought men who beat on their girlfriends or wives were cowards, idiots and pathetic.
"You're on the road so much and I barely have time to be with you when you are home. You're always working on your motorbikes, or travelling even more to see your children." Mark's jaw tightened once again; her voice sounded as venomous as a snake and he didn't like it one bit. "We don't even have a sex life anymore!" She stood up, the tears and black ink drying on her skin, walking towards her boyfriend... for now.
Mark watched the small blonde walk towards him, the sound of her black high heels clicking against the wooden floor of the living room. He remembered the way she looked at him when they first met, her warm smile sending butterflies into his stomach. He never admitted that – after all, it wouldn't be good for his reputation in the WWE as the 'Deadman'. But as he looked at her now that smile wasn't anywhere to be found, her blue eyes cold and sinister... What has happened to the fun loving blonde he used to know?
She placed her hands on his pectoral muscles, feeling them tense underneath the cloth of his shirt. As her hands ran down the material, she unbuttoned the shirt in a slow, sensual way. Mark quickly snapped back into reality - the smoke clearing from his mind – as he felt her soft skin against a nipple. He snatched her hand away roughly, glaring down at her and watched as she smirked.
"It was all a facade." His lips pressed together, making a thin line. "You lied to me when you said you loved me, didn't you?" Mark waited for her to change her facial expression but it stayed in the same smirk. "Why, Jaymie? Why?!" He grabbed her wrists and pulled her towards him. "I could take every word you said to me, and throw them back at you and you wouldn't even care, would you?" That smirk still remained.
"Which one do you love, Mark?" She drawled in a sensual, dark tone; her accent coming out fully. Her wrists were freed and she stumbled backwards when Mark pushed her away. He couldn't deal with this sudden turn.
"You suffocated me with your lies." He took a deep breath, pain present in his eyes, his hands shoved roughly into his jean pockets. "I thought you wanted me, not my possessions, not my money..." Mark took one good look at her as his temper rose. He wanted nothing more to smack that seemingly permanent smirk off Jaymie's face. "Get out."
A laughed filled the room causing Mark to stop in his steps as he moved to the liquor cabinet. He turned around slowly to find his now ex girlfriend sitting on the sofa, her legs crossed, laughing with glee. The audacity of this woman was astounding. "Aren't you going to throw me out, honey?" She looked so proud of herself. Mark growled. "Come on now, I want to feel those strong hands around my waist one more time..." She trailed off, her eyes flickering with something Mark couldn't make out. Was that the look of amusement? Happiness? He wasn't sure.
He wouldn't give into her. Not now. He did that in the past and look where it got him. Mark turned his back on Jaymie one more time and picked up a frosted glass. He poured the bourbon into the angled glass with grace, the movement calming him down slightly. The scent of liquor surrounding him and he licked his lips. Taking a mouthful, he hummed with satisfaction. Mark sat down in the plush chocolate coloured leather chair, liquor in hand, and closed his eyes.
Jaymie watched him. He looked peaceful; his eyebrows weren't drawn together any more, his lips weren't pursed in thought or anger and his fingers drummed gently against the leather beside him. She didn't expect this. She wanted him to be physical with her, to throw her out of the house himself, to shout and curse at her. He didn't... and she was disappointed. A show is what she wanted from him. Something she could laugh at, and laugh at him too. She walked out the living room, her heels echoing in the silence and picked up her bags from the bottom of the staircase.
She closed the door behind her and looked up at the baby blue sky, filled with fluffy, pure white clouds. This part of her life was gone. Jaymie straightened up her posture, her head held high, and smirked. "Time to play the game."