First story? Hell yes. I've had this idea in my head for a while,
I hope you like it, loves. All character other than the main OC (probably

some other OC's who'll be introduced later, too) are not mine. They
belong to themselves, the WWE and Vinnie Mac.
Story title lyrics from Antonia by Motion City Soundtrack.

:)

He looked down at the angel asleep on his chest. How could it be so easy, so simple for just a girl to make him smile? She hadn't even become a successful conquest yet. Granted, she had never been one in his mind at all. It was just that for a while before her 'conquering' someone had been the only thing that had been able to put a smile on his face - albeit a know-it-all, cocky one.

But her? Just the thought of being beside her lit up his features. This girl had such a huge hold over him after only such a short amount of time. It was a whole new feeling, but for once it did not scare him.

Shuffling around on top of him, her makeshift pillow, to try to readjust her position, he didn't miss the incoherent mumble that left her lips. It only enamored him more. He watched her intently, noticing some things he already had and more. Her tiny frame was no more than a bag of groceries in his arms. It would be so easy for him to hurt her, even accidentally. The thought occurred to him each and every day.

He was used to beating people half to death and vice-versa - all in the name of sports entertainment - but even the idea of something happening to her? He wouldn't be able to live with himself. She was just so.. small, so completely delicate. Beside his own height of just over six feet, her five foot one felt almost pocket sized. It was just another thing to add to the list of things he adored about her.

Without so much as a thought he began to rub small circles on her back through the thin and likely well-worn fabric of her t-shirt. It wasn't so much thread-bare as it was a little shabby, like it had survived many, many years of use.

He would know. It was his.

The small action of his soft touch was enough for her to begin to stir. He took the moment to take in the scene, knowing that the days when he awoke first came few and far between.

Her hair was splayed perfectly over his chest. Her head rested just high enough up that her arm was wrapped around his torso, her hand tucked under him in a hold as though to prevent him from leaving. Not that he would even think of it. The other of her hands clung gently to his own, which snaked around her small waist. Her fully-clothed body fit in with his perfectly, like missing pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It was as though their contours were made to fit together in the first place.

At that moment nothing could have been more perfect. Not with a million world titles, not with all of his friends there to share the moment, not even if he had the chance to gain everything that he had ever wanted. Then and there all that meant was her. For as long as he could have her. It would most likely mean fooling her into believing that he was everything she deserved - oh, how he knew that she deserved so much more than him. He told himself every day. She deserved to be a princess while he was nothing more than a man who ran around in lycra underwear for a living. Never had he thought a girl like her would cross his path. Never did he think he would want her to be his forever. Never had it been a large priority in his life. Oh, how things had changed.

Aware that she was now awake, he made no gesture to prove that he was, also. It wouldn't take long at all for her to become aware of his fully-conscious presence. Neither took credit for any kind of psychic abilities, they were just tuned in to one another in a way that nobody seemed to understand. As if on cue, she stirred even more. Tilting her head so that their eyes could meet, she offered him one of those light-up-the-room smiles. He couldn't help but immediately show a crooked grin of his own. There it was again, that effect she had on him, he just couldn't escape it. He didn't mind.

Stretching her neck to enable her to give a quick kiss to the stubble on his chin adoringly, she lay her head back on his chest.

"Morning, sweetheart." He greeted.

"Good morning to you, Pinkie."

A roll of his eyes. "I'll never live it down, will I?"

Pausing for a moment of mock thought, she shook her head. "Never. Don't worry, I still love you."

Without even bothering to try to shield his feelings, a smile immediately erupted upon his features - a larger one than what had already been there, at least. That happened a lot when the two were together. Perhaps they weren't meant to be - what with the difference in their ages, personalities, beliefs, even their families - but the attraction? Oh, how it enraptured him. The invisible string that held them together, it was stronger than the toughest metal he could think of. He was completely caught up; in the side of him that only came out when she was around, in the warmth that surrounded him at her very touch, in her. She was the key to all that he had ever really wanted and all that he had never even thought to ask for.

That may just be the wonder of it all. That unconditional adoration they held for one another was unexplainable. Both felt it, it was electric. Even just laying there sleepily, something else was at play. It always had been, since the very first time that he saw her brilliant blue eyes.


He always drew the short straw. It was just his luck. Everyone got to sit back and relax happily while he was the one running errands around the place. Of course he wasn't about to let them all wreak havoc about the city they were in with hang-overs the size of a small nation, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel like maybe he should put his foot down once in a while. Why did he owe it to them at all?

Truth be told, he didn't mind being the one to make coffee runs, even Tylenol and groceries were fine by him. Alcohol runs? Well he drew the line there, obviously. Luckily none of the guys had ever bothered to ask him. Everyone knew his boundaries and they all respected them. That was possibly the reason why he didn't so much mind helping out any of the guys when they did ask. It wasn't as though he was a bad person who would just say no straight off - it was quite the opposite, in fact. That was another likely factor in his extremely giving approach, there were many.

He was half asleep, almost unable to function and dressed in only a t-shirt and boxer shorts, but he really didn't care. One would think that being on television for all to see would change this, but no. He was no different that Britney Spears or any other person in the tabloids. Without the blatant promiscuity most showed. All he wanted was to be a normal guy. Having to drag another half asleep (and non-willing) man with him didn't help his outlook, either. It did nothing to steer his non-caring approach in the other direction.

John Morrison was not a guy who wanted to be awake at roughly 8:30 in the morning. He had no trouble letting the other man know this. But for him it was all part of the amusement, as torturous as that happened to be.

"C'mon," He beckoned his friend out of the passenger seat. "The faster we get this done, the faster you can get back to the hotel."

With a grunt and a moan, the man who made up his currently worse-for-wear company picked himself up out of the car, huffing and complaining the whole time. He would burn in hell? Alright. A horrible accident would happen to him one day? Sure, whatever, John. He found it better to agree with whatever his sleepy friend said, when he was in such a foul mood at least, despite the immense amusement he got from it.

It didn't take long for the two to reach entrance having parked as close as possible. Even after only traveling that short distance, swagger was prominent in both man's step. The automatic doors opened, providing sudden relief from the already-warming day. He greeted this happily. He wasn't usually a summer kind of guy, only on the odd occasion did he get sick of rain lashing the windows and the gray skies that accompanied winter weather. Maybe it was just him, but it was never something that had mattered to the dark haired man. Being the only one with a certain opinion, that is.

Grabbing a basket from the high-stacked pile, he made his way to the maze of aisles that lay in front of him. He didn't quite know where to start. Not even the glowing signs from the ceiling of the building provided the help he needed. Morrison had already sulked off somewhere - most likely to the beverages, or to try to make his way through the many different sections to find them. He would do that too. He was bound to stumble across the things he needed if he looked everywhere, right? Well, it was the only game plan he had, it would have to do. At least he wouldn't miss out anything.

He was about to begin his adventure, he'd even stuck his foot out to take the first step into the unknown territory of an unknown grocery store, but he was halted in his step. By what? By nothing but a flying cart. He had been about to turn the corner into the closest aisle, but he was glad that he hadn't. Being taken out by an uncontrolled shopping trolley was not in has plan for the day. How had it moved on its own? No, wait - there had been someone on the edge.

The cart collided with a barrier that stood behind him. The person fell off, onto the ground. He was so bewildered. He made his way over to the girl (He took for granted that 'she' was, in fact, a girl. All that he saw was was the back of a head, a mess of blond hair), making the assumption that she was writhing in pain.

He was taken aback, however, when instead of hearing moans of pain he was greeted with what seemed to be uncontrollable laughter. Worried for the girls' sanity, he bent down beside her small form and rested a hand on her shoulder, not saying a word.

It took the girl a few seconds to control her bubbly giggles. Her chest heaving, she turned her body to face him. Her movements weren't jerky as he expected they would be what with her having no idea who it was interrupting her laughter; they were quite the opposite. Fluid, even comfortable. He noticed before she had fully turned that she wore the same black dress pants and celadon green shirt that the employees at the numerous checkouts wore. It explained a lot, but put a whole lot more questions in his head also.

Ready to ask if she was alright, he opened his mouth to speak. For the second time in only a few short seconds he was stopped in his tracks. Not by a runaway shopping cart, but by the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen.

I'd love to hear your reviews! :]