This is a short one shot I wrote with Dixie my OC from 'Trouble Sleeping' and Randy Orton in mind, but it had no names so imagine whoever you like! Please review for me, I own nothing but the idea.
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Standing outside the door, I can hear his pacing. It's his way of thinking. I have seen him do it many times before. Even with the thick door separating us, I know what he looks like right now. Neck bent forward slightly, he clenches his jaw. Steely blue eyes narrow. His stare is penetrating the floor directly in front of his next step. His shoulders are hunched forward. His are elbows bent so they rest on his stomach. He wrings his hands mindlessly. The fingers knot and unfurl in an unknown rhythm. They randomly circle and pull at each other. His steps are slow and meaningful, each one in time with the thud of his thoughts.
Every now and then, he will stop and look up. His fingers will be stretched, sore from their repetitive actions. His lungs will let out enough breath for a deep sigh. A hand will be raised and ran along the back of his neck. A slight pause will follow. The soft thud of footsteps will resume. The pacing can last for hours or seconds just as interchangeably. It depends on the stubbornness of the issue presenting itself and causing this solitary pacing.
Now, the thuds are slowing down. This is usually a sign of deep anxiety. The pain will not cease. It will not relent. He can find no answer. This time it is I who sighs. I half rest my hand the old brass door knob. It is cold to touch. It creaks as I turn it. If he heard, he makes no indication of it.
Eventually he turns towards me. He is silent. His face is expressionless. I imagine my face is too. I will not give anything away. I shut the heavy wood door behind me. It creaks once more, this time in a mocking tone. It traps us together when we do not want to be.
I approach him cautiously. I do not know anymore if he is angry or upset. He seems to be trying to gage the same thing from me. I stare into his blue eyes and he stares into mine, both looking for the answers we are both struggling to find. Or avoid answer we are both unwilling to accept.
The entire incident replays in a second. The argument is remembered. Harsh words that have already been spoken cut just as deeply as the first time. For that brief moment he seems to flicker from my mind, and I wonder if I have already lost him. His jaw clenches tighter. He is already regretting what he wants to say and is trying to stop it. I can see it in his eyes. They flare at me, saying everything that he will not allow his lips to speak. He does not want to anger or upset me. Maybe I still have a chance. If I want to give it to him, that is. I am unsure what he wants from me. He cannot have what I cannot give.
Instead of speaking he moves. He takes my hand. I notice his warmth immediately. I have been cold all afternoon. I shiver. He notices. He moves again and embraces me. It feels like we should together. This feels like the most natural, most wonderful place in the world. I start to sob, quietly. I know now exactly what I want and hope to God he wants the same. I nestle my head in his neck. I rest myself against his broad chest. I resign myself to his will entirely. For the first time in my life I need somebody.
I feel safe in the crook of his arm. He comforts me by brushing my hair from my face and holding me tighter. This seems to be his answer. He is holding on like he never wants to let go. We want to be together. Nothing else matters.