One-shot: Scarred
Brief Summary: "It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever bought for her, it was the most expensive gift he'd ever purchased for her, it was the most valuable gift he felt he could ever give her. But she never got that gift."
Author's Note: I suddenly thought of writing a one-shot involving my fourth wrestler crush, Drew McIntyre (okay, I know I made him sound insane and wacked-up in 'Broken Dreams', but that sexy accent of his made me realize how hot he actually is) and an OC created just for this one-shot. I hope you guys enjoy!
12.45am: Glasgow, Scotland
He rolls from side to side in the king-sized bed, struggling to fall asleep despite the comfort of the soft, Egyptian cotton sheets. His ocean blue eyes are wide-awake, fighting to hold back the tears. The raindrops continuously tap on his window, a thunderclap or two booming every few minutes. He clutches one pillow in his large palm, wincing softly when he catches the aroma of lavender and musk.
His mind is fixed on one thing, which prevents him from getting the sleep that he needs. He's had that one thing on his mind for days, weeks, fortnights, even months, and it just won't escape his sleepless nights. He tosses his blankets aside and rolls out of bed, making a beeline for the closet where his memories are stored.
He wishes to bring back that one thing on this mind.
He first pulls out a massive cardboard box and opens it, revealing an assortment of mementos. His heart painfully weeps as he pulls out a ruffled white blouse, the same white blouse he's kept for this long. It had faded slightly into a yellowish off-white, but to him it always stayed as new as it had been before. He revels in the simple yet sweet aspect of the blouse before folding it and setting it to one side.
He then retrieves a small blue box, opening it to reveal a pair of earrings—a pair he'd recalled purchasing from Tiffany's over two years ago. Since then it had been worn nearly every single day; it was the perfect embellishment. He'd remembered every single compliment he'd given regarding those earrings. As the crack in his heart worsens, he closes the package and places it on top of the blouse.
At the very bottom of the box, he feels a small chain that eventually leads down to something thin and smooth. Immediately recognizing it, he pulls out the item—a sterling silver heart-shaped pendant with the words 'Forever Yours' encrypted on the front. He holds the pendant close to his heart and feels the pain gushing throughout his entire body.
He can't take it anymore. He hurriedly reaches for a stack of photo albums shelved at the very back of the closet. He hadn't looked there in ages, for he couldn't bear to torture himself. He takes the first one on top of the pile and flips open the first page. He feels his breath catch in his throat.
His eyes meet several photographs of an auburn-haired beauty with jade green eyes and a smile that could light up the whole city of Glasgow. The first picture that sent his heart racing was of one of her dressed up for prom—a royal blue evening gown hugging her svelte hourglass figure, her hair and makeup done glamorously and professionally. He smiles as he revels in how beautiful she looked in that picture; he wished he could relive that unforgettable night all over again.
He then turns to a picture of her on the beach lying on her back with her elbows propped up, watching the waves crashing onto the sand. She was oblivious to him taking this photograph of her, but he couldn't help but lick his lips at how irresistible she looked in that sexy little pink and purple bikini.
He slowly flips through the pages of the photo album, recollecting memories as he scrutinized every single picture of her that brought life to the dull black background. His eyes catch a breathtaking picture of her, professionally taken and edited. She was looking innocently into the camera, everything in black and white except for her flaming red hair and piercing green eyes. He scanned through the next few pages and they were all edited the same way, except she was in different poses in every picture. He remembered that day when he asked her to be his model, taking various shots of her while ridding all the colors in the photographs except for her stunning eyes of emerald and silky locks of dark crimson.
He notices one last photograph of her at the end of the large book—she was lying on her back in a white background, completely naked except for a black lacy cheeky panty, her arms folded across her chest to cover her lush, round breasts, the curve from her small waist down to her flaring hips was feminine and proportionately perfect. He recollects the day he'd asked her to pose for this shot; she was initially extremely reluctant, pointing out her alleged physical flaws, but he bluntly dismissed her self-criticism and encouraged her to do it just for him. It wasn't the sensual aspect of the photograph that drew him to this shot of her; it was the way it reminded him of how truly beautiful she was to him.
She was a divine beauty, an angel sent from the heavens, his saving grace and the breath to his life. To him, she was everything he wanted, everything he wished for, and everything he needed to live. He felt as though he could live up to a hundred and still fall helplessly in love with her…
…if she were still there with him.
Suddenly, he rummages for the second photo album, a white and gold one with an intricately designed cover reading the exact same message on the locket, "Forever Yours", the cover picture featuring a pair of joined hands in black and white, the album thick with hundreds of photographs. He recognizes the larger and darker palm as his own, while the small hand, pale and nimble, belonged to his beloved redheaded beauty.
He flips the cover aside and his eyes fall upon columns of pictures featuring the same two people—himself, as well as his precious one. His eyes slowly skim through photographs of the couple together in various shots and places. As he gradually flips through the album, he came across pictures of him and her slow dancing at prom, her snuggling in his muscled arms at the beach, him carrying her bridal style at a party as she laughed, her arms wrapped around his neck. His heart shatters with every loving memory that flows into his mind.
The mood of the pictures eventually become more and more romantic, and at the same time, more and more heartbreaking. He pulls out a black and white close-up of the two of them together in bed, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes as they held each other in each other's arms. Similar to the black and white photograph, only their matching blue eyes and her fiery red hair were left colored. Both of them were shirtless, his big, strong arms shielding her breasts from view. The way they were photographed showed how raw and unadulterated their love was for each other, never to end despite hardships and difficult times.
A tear escapes his eye as he picks up a more recent photograph of them together—she, completely bare naked, was lying on a blanket of velvet, sitting up slightly with her knees bent and her perky breasts round and high, her face half hidden from view as she faced him lying next to her. He, on the other hand, wore nothing but a pair of jeans, his large palm caressing the luscious curve of her hip, his eyes halfway closed as he was just leaning in to plant a kiss on his lover.
This is perhaps the most intimate photograph his camera had ever taken of the two of them together, but it wasn't as though he'd actually intended to have this photograph taken of them. He had just woken up that morning and had decided to greet his beautiful broad a good morning before taking a shower. Just as he'd managed to get her to turn around with his caress, however, he hadn't realized the camera he'd been charging the night before suddenly clicked and flashed, causing her to let out a yelp and accidentally slide off the bed in surprise.
He wishes he could smile at the recollection of her screaming at him for scaring her like that, but he honestly hadn't intended to collect that shot of them together at all. When she disappeared into the shower, however, he silently crept over to his camera and felt his stomach clinch.
The camera had coincidentally captured that very same photograph he was inspecting at this very moment, and he'd taken the time later to edit it and make some adjustments to the quality and color, leaving everything in grayscale except for her hair, that silky red hair he loved the most of her physical attractiveness.
He clenches his teeth as he struggles to restrain the tears trickling down his cheeks. He hurriedly puts the photograph and the album away and quickly rummages through the closet in search for one particular item. By the time he finds the red velvet box, his face is drenched in sorrow and grief.
His trembling fingers open the heart-shaped clasp of the box and the thunder claps in the background, as he reveals a glowing jewel sitting in that box—a simple white gold ring with three diamonds encrusted together, the middle one was of an ocean blue and 7 carats. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever bought for her, it was the most expensive gift he'd ever purchased for her, it was the most valuable gift he felt he could ever give her.
But she never got that gift.
And the reason why she never got that gift forever haunted his mind, causing his consistent insomnia, his emotional breakdowns, and his inability to move on and find another.