You know? I wrote this in school. XP. Sorry for possible suckishness.

10 glances – phil brooks x matt hardy – wrestling – theme #3 (flower; rose)

It hadn't been long after their breakup had Phil received flowers. Roses. Each one bubbling an exotic color, a beautiful red one and in Phil's memory, the red one meant and would always mean love, a bright yellow one, friendship, a blazing orange rose, passion, a vivacious blue one, mystery and a pink one, softness. Phil had gathered the roses and put them in the water.

He didn't care much about them.

It was more of who sent it to him.

And Phil, in some way, hoped it was Matt.

Matt and Phil never really had a connection, they were a one night stand—that was where they stood, nothing more and nothing less. They weren't the best of friends, weren't friends at all but not enemies at the same time, just so damn neutral and they had no feelings after the hookup, everything just…vanished. Nothing was left in its place.

Still, Phil hoped.

The feeling that condensed in his stomach, thinking that Matt would've seen him in another light, it was too much to endure the thought of him, the fearless, heartless, reckless CM Punk, would be linked to perfect, gentle, loving Matt Hardy. And to top that off, they had a history of hating each other, with a glorious hateful passion. Phil had done things up to date that he had regretted dearly and when he looked back, he could only feel nauseous.

What kind of a person would do that to another?

The fight was unexpected and at the same time, completely expected. They fought for nothing but a belt that didn't mean anything right now. It was in Mark's hands, still of course, but Phil had no urge to pretend to want it anymore. He wanted to be different, to go past that, but there was something pushing him down, breathing him.

Matt could see that.

He'd never change.

That was why Matt had probably left.

Because he'd never change.

"Jeff, come on!"

Matt had grabbed onto Jeff's hand, forcing him to walk with him, away from where he stood and stopped when he saw Phil standing outside his hotel room, picking up flowers.

It was the second time.

Phil was now counting.

It had only been yesterday when he'd first gotten the flowers and now, today, instead of roses, he had daffodils up his doorstep.

"Hey," Matt was staring, appalled, disgusted with himself for not having thought of the idea himself. He could've given Phil flowers, showed him some gratitude for ruining Phil's nights but no. He didn't. He twisted his head towards Jeff who was now staring at Matt.

Matt shook his head. He truthfully did not send Phil any flowers.

Matt could see that the flowers were fresh and had wet droplets falling from them and they didn't look like anything anyone would buy from a gift shop anywhere in the hotel—and with the scent that covered the daffodils, Matt knew that Chris Jericho was taking an interest in him.

A pang of disgust filled him even more.

Chris Jericho.

Why did he care? Phil didn't belong to him.

Matt watched as Phil spun to him and Phil knew that Matt was looking in confusion, a type of jealousy and that made Phil's heart flip over once. "You going anywhere?" Phil said after too much silence around all three.

"Yeah," Jeff spoke out, a look of coldness in his eyes. "Matt and I are going to go out for dinner. Why?"

"Wanna come?" Matt suddenly choked out.

Jeff stared for a moment in confusion while Matt shook his head, holding onto his head and Jeff pushed him away, trying to get to their destination before seven o'clock since Jeff took a little too much time eating and the restaurant was very far away that they had booked reservations in.

In the elevator, Jeff formed a smile. "You like him." His eyes lit up, as if he had just known a secret, and it was a secret for all Jeff knew.

Matt's eyes widened and he shook his head. "I expected, screaming, shouting—not gossiping."

"Why would—?" then images of the rivalry flashed through Jeff's mind, "Oh."

Silence roamed between both.

A sigh escaped Jeff's lips, making Matt pay full attention. "Matty, listen, I don't like Phil. I know I don't like him but it doesn't mean that you should. I can't control who you like and who you don't like. I feel like a spoiled brat that way. Matt, if you like him and you're sure he likes you back then go for it."

Matt stared at Jeff for a few moments before hugging him tightly. "Thanks, brat."

"Hey!" Jeff pushed Matt off, chuckling under his breath before turning to face the now open elevator. "And besides, Matt, if you and Phil get together, it would be hilarious seeing everyone else's faces. But…"

Jeff held onto Matt's shoulder, staring him deep in the eye. "If he hurts you, I'll tear off his face."

"Ouch. Or take him out one night. He'll love that."

"Matt!"

Matt felt like an idiot.

What in hell's name am I doing?

He pulled out a flower from his pocket as he walked up to Phil's room, remembering Phil's various bouquets while he held one rose, a red one and Matt kissed it once before laying it down on the floor, tied with a satin red ribbon.

The rose itself was more than $10.

He stood there for a while before scooping the flower and putting it in his pocket and he knocked on Phil's door.

"I thought we weren't doing this anymore," Phil said.

Matt had just noticed that it was late at night that even Phil wasn't in his normal clothes but a tiny towel. Matt just felt his sweat collect against his hairline as he fought on the urge to pound Phil to the mattress. "You have any whisky?"

Stupid. Stupid Matt.

Phil stared at him, glaring coldly for a moment, 'that isn't funny you know."

Matt just nodded his head.

Stupid. Stupid.

Phil walked off for a moment and Matt dropped the flower in the trash can, letting out a sigh he held back. When Phil had came back, he gave Matt a bottle of lemonade and pushed him off. "Just because we're not together doesn't mean that you can insult who I am."

Oh great. And I insulted him.

That night, just as Phil was about to throw his Pepsi can, he leaned down and pause to look at the flower, he had taken it out, a petal peeling off and stared at it for a moment. "God, Matt." His voice was brittle.

You spend your night crying yourself to sleep. Lucky you.

Thanks, mah lovelies.

Review for meh. X3.

X Sam.