Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: She is Summer Rae. She is the one who effortlessly wraps men around her little finger. She does not stumble over her words. She does not get knock-kneed after just one kiss. Except, she did. And it's all his fault. DamienSummer, set after 4/9/15 Smackdown, oneshot
OMGOMGOMGISHIPITLIKEFEDEXIAMSONOTSORRYATALL. I am honestly so excited about this, as you can see. It inspired me and I cranked out this little piece out of nowhere. I am probably the only one flipping out about Damien and Summer's little smooch. I was literally like, "Kiss her! Kiss her!" while the whole segment was going on. And then it happened. And I flipped out because I'm a spaz. I'm really hoping it actually develops into something, but I doubt it, but I want to believe! Anyway, please enjoy the fanfic! (And try not to be too put off by my crazy author's note, lol.)
Speechless
Summer Rae stands in the middle of the ring, the crowd electric around her. Their cheers and chants send excitement through her, deep into her marrow, but that feeling is nothing compared to what just occurred, to what has caused the crowd's surprise. Her lips were still tingling, the feeling radiating downward to her toes, her skin alight where he had touched her.
And it was so ridiculous.
She wonders if the crowd can sense her shock - that's the only word that comes to mind. Shock, disbelief, and so many others that she hasn't the state of mind to name.
The blonde starts to make her way out of the ring, trying her best to not stumble when she feels that would be the proper response to something so jarring. She should have definitely rethought the heels. Then she rethinks the rethought because she'll wear heels in a hurricane and damn the consequences.
Backstage, people are looking at her and giving her sly glances. She's not sure whether to be insulted or not. Summer doesn't dwell on it for too long, because soon she's back in her head, reliving the moment over and over for whatever reason.
Out of all people, she'd never expected that out of Damien.
And when did he become just Damien and not Mizdow? she thinks with a delicate shudder, rubbing her arms, imagining his fingers in place of her own.
"Well," a coy voice says in her ear.
Summer turns and sees Paige staring at her, her eyes amused, one eyebrow cocked in a question that she eventually voices, "So how was it?"
"Ah...uh...you know..."
Paige gives a little laugh, her smile turning genuine now. "I'm guessing it was pretty damn good if you can't even come up with a witty response."
That statement is so true that it is impossible for Summer to reply.
"I..."
"You could certainly do a lot worse, Sum."
"But...it was just a ki - "
"Miss Rae?"
Now that voice takes her aback. Summer stiffens, her skeleton feeling as if it is made of steel instead of bone. Paige looks over Summer's shoulder, smirks, and slinks away into the darkness, leaving her alone with the very man who has caused her so much confusion - pleasant confusion, but confusion nonetheless.
"Um, hey, Da - Mizdow," she says, stumbling over her words just as she stumbled out of the ring just moments earlier.
He smiles at her, eyes wrinkling at the corners. A real smile. An attractive smile. "I don't mind Damien."
Summer gulps. "Okay, then."
Damien is looking at her as if pondering his next words. There is a slight fevered look to his eyes, a look that is commonplace on most wrestlers after standing up to their Big Bad. But this particular look is different, it is directed at her, and it causes a strange tension to coil in her stomach.
But despite this, his eyes are soft, and he says, "I feel like I must apologize."
Summer blinks. There are a thousand words she wants to say to him in this moment, but the syllables ring around sluggishly in her brain, unwilling to come forth.
Instead of her normal witty comeback, she says, "What for?"
The dark-haired man looks sheepishly at her. "For the events that...transpired...out there."
It was Summer's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Events."
"Yes." His hands interlock in front of his waist and he stares at them. She stares at them as well. Those strong hands, those warm hands, those hands that elicited a feeling so alien to her that she may as well be an alien herself.
"I...what I did may be considered rude and - "
"You kissed me," she says, going for her usual devil-may-care attitude but falling dreadfully flat. Her words are breathy, excited, foreign.
"I...kissed you," he replies, as if trying to believe it himself.
Summer waits for him to continue, but it seems as if he is just as speechless as she is. The excitement from attacking Miz had faded, leaving behind the sheepish-looking man in front of her.
"Do you regret it?" she blurts out. Oh, great, now you can speak. Just in time to ask something stupid.
An impish smirk crosses his face. Impish looks good on him, Summer finds.
"Not one bit."
Feeling some of her old fire come roaring back, Summer places her hand on top of his clasped ones, smirks, and says, "Good. Because when you kiss like that, there is nothing to be sorry about."
She then gives Damien a smile - a different one than she usually bestows upon men. It feels odd on her face, the genuine smile that curves her lips, the smile that is without any pretense. Her fingers give his hands a quick squeeze, almost like a silent promise, almost like saying, Do not let this be the end of this, whatever this is, because it feels right.
And, as she turns to walk away, a determined voice in the back of her mind echoes, I won't let it.
End.