Howdy, everybody! How's it going? Anywho, the newest chapter of Moth to a Flame is here! I only own Shay, and apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors. Thank you to everyone who is reviewing, and story alerting, and favoriting, etc. It means a lot to me, and I love you all! XD Please read, review, and enjoy.

In other news: I have posted a new story entitled Better in Time, so if you want to check that out, go right ahead. :D

Have wonderful days/nights/etc.

Love,

Kiwi

"M-M-Miranda?" Shay sucked in a breath, hoping the woman didn't register the stutter, or how tense her shoulders got. Standing before her was Stephen's ex-girlfriend, and she was to fend for herself against her. Fantastic, she thought, grappling for something to say. Shay smiled, tilting her head slightly to the side. "Miranda, hey. How's it going?" She felt both their eyes scan over her, and she had to stop herself from fiddling with the hem of the oversized t-shirt draped over her frame. She drummed her fingers against her thigh, suddenly wishing she had came better prepared.

An arm looped around her middle, pulling her in against a chest. She smiled, twisting up to kiss him.

"Mornin'," Stephen murmured, yawning as he dragged his free hand through his hair. "What's going on, love?"

"Miranda's here," Shay smiled, "with..." Shay trailed off.

"Connor," Stephen finished, shaking the man's hand.

"Did we... interrupt something?" Miranda questioned, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, and Shay, again analyzing how little clothes the two had on, and connecting it to the assumption she was making. Shay quickly looked at Stephen, shirtless with a pair of sweats on, and her, donning his shirt. Because that was the total image of innocence. Again, she felt those eyes staring at her.

"Oh! Oh, no,we just got up. Can I help you with anything?"

"So, you're the Shay I spoke to on the phone?" Shay nodded, and Miranda continued. "You said you'd have him call me back when he wasn't busy."

Shay nodded, moving so one arm was behind Stephen, and the other rested at her side. Putting a hand on his chest, she nodded again. "He's been keeping busy, you know how he gets when he's bored." She had no idea where this was coming from, but, while it was at the top of her head, it might as well have been put to good use. Miranda's carefully crafted eyebrow shot up, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"He has to stop working sometime doesn't he?" Miranda questioned.

"Yes," Shay nodded in affirmation, dropping her hand to lace her fingers with Stephen's, "but, all work and no play makes Stephen a dull boy." She really didn't mean to make it sound that sexual. She could feel the laughter he was suppressing through his chest, and once he knew he had his composure, he nodded.

"Told yeh she was a pistol. Now, is there anythin' we can help yeh with?" Stephen's stance changed, she could feel it behind her. She could still feel her eyes, and Connor's scanning over her, resting on her face, and then her legs, and then back to her face.

"No, uh, we just got back from our honeymoon, and we just wanted to drop by and say hi," Miranda smiled, holding out her perfectly manicured hand to Shay, who shook it. "Maybe we should go out for lunch sometime. Just you and me Shay, I would love to get to know you." Shay smiled again, glancing up at Stephen. Biting her lip, she shrugged.

"Likewise, now, um, if you don't mind, I'm starving," Shay stated, clapping her hands together.

Stephen leaned forward, kissing her cheek. "Lemme get it. Whattaya want, love?" He wrapped his arms around her middle, lacing his fingers together over her stomach. He rested his chin on her head.

"Pancakes, with strawberries... and bananas." Shay replied, and he nodded, giving her a quick peck as he left, waving slightly as he disappeared from view. Leaning her back against the door frame, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I hope your honeymoon was good."

"Yeah, Paris is beautiful in the spring."

"Belgium is gorgeous in the fall, there's snow, but I'm used to the cold," she shrugged. "And Spain's nice too. If you ever feel the need for a really good vacation, go there." She smiled sweetly, tucking hair behind her ear as her name was called. "Yeah, Stephen?"

"Where'd yeh put the flour?"

"Isn't it on the shelf?"

"No, can yeh jus' come here? "

Shay turned, wincing, towards Miranda and Connor. "I am so sorry for cutting this short. Um, I'll see you guys later." They nodded, and Shay could detect the slight air of sarcasm that seemed to roll off them as they waved. She shut the door, and went straight to the kitchen, where Stephen was leaning against the counter. "Th-th-they're gone. I-I could feel her staring at me, like I was some sort of experiment."

"Yeah, an' he was lookin' too, an' not where he shoulda been," Stephen shook his head, anger in his voice.

"Speaking of that, the next time you get Crazy Ex Vibes, let me know so I can put some pants on." She meant it in good humor, but he didn't seem amused. He shook his head again, and her smile fell. Stephen was silent for a few moments.

"I never shoulda put yeh in that position. It wasn' fair, an' last night wasn't fair either. I'm sorry." He ran his hand through his hair. She murmured under her breath, coming over to stand in front of him. Shay shrugged, avoiding his gaze as her fingers grazed the hem of the shirt. She hadn't minded, really. And she felt comfortable around him, with him, in his arms. It hadn't bothered her in the slightest.

What had bothered her was the slight twinge in her chest, how her heart seemed to speed up, and tighten as he pulled her closer to him. That is what frightened her to pieces, the fact that he was close to her. So close, so intimately close that she didn't mind pretending to be his girlfriend. Shutting her eyes, she remembered the sting of his fingers grazing over her body, pulling her flush against his chest as he kissed her neck. And then, the cold burst of emotion when he pulled away in something she assumed was disgust.

Last night didn't go as she thought it was going to.

She thought about it more as she took a seat. Had he not felt that stupid little scar, would they have gone farther. Shay sighed, the warmth of his hands had been comforting, welcomed against the chill, and she believed that, perhaps, they had just been lost in the moment. His thumb had brushed against it, and she had hoped he wouldn't notice. But he did, and he pulled away like she had some sort of disease. It was the scars, right? Her breath quickened, and her hands grabbed at the cloth at her stomach. Stephen's eyebrow rose.

"Are yeh ok, Shay?"

"Yeah, f-fine." Shay nodded, "And, it's okay." Her hand moved forward, and rested on his shoulder. "Really."

"Can I make it up to yeh? Take yeh somewhere. It feels like I should do somethin', yeh know?" Shay nodded, even though she really didn't agree. Why should he have to make it up to her? For putting her in an awkward position, for putting her in the place that absolutely scared her to death? "Just, if somethin' comes to mind, tell me, alrigh?" Again, she nodded, and she felt that they both knew she wouldn't. Still, she avoided the look, the simple you really don't have to look, and folded her hands behind her back. Stephen stood, walking in front of her as he disappeared down the hall. Minutes later, he returned, setting a stack of neatly folded clothing—her clothing—on the counter beside her. "It wasn't fair."

"You're the one who told me that life wasn't fair. And that I, of all people, should know that," she blurted, immediately regretting it. "You told me a lot of things that made me think."

Stephen nodded, murmuring that he knew all too well what he had said to her. Numerous occasions of get over it and countless quips about getting into her past. "I really don' need any more reason ta be mad at myself."

"If it helps," she chewed on her lip, thinking for a moment, "if it helps, it helped." He didn't reply as he walked past her, hands in his pockets as his footsteps moved out of earshot. Sighing, she grabbed the stack of clothes, and retreated into the bathroom.

/

Shay tried to ignore the fact that she and Stephen hadn't really spoken in hours, and what was left was the dry and brittle small talk. Was it partially her fault? Yes. She didn't know what to say when his eyes drifted onto her, or how to react when he stopped himself from saying something. Shay curled up into her chair, running her finger over the slight indent in the skin on her hip. She remembered that one, hauntingly well.

"So, you gonna explain those wicked moves ya got there?" A man laughed, and she had jumped at the sudden noise. Punk grinned, plopping next to Shay.

She smiled, "Lot of injuries, lot of time to kill." Her arms wrapped around her middle. "I can do a pretty mean shuffle when I want to." Phil smiled back, nodding as he looked her over again. His eyes fell on the scar lining her jaw.

"You know," he chuckled, shaking his head as he clicked his tongue. He paused, shook his head again, and continued. "Do you know what they told us when you got into that accident?" Shay sat up straight, eyebrow raised, and poised to ask a question. She shook her head, easing back into her seat. "Some people were told that the car slid out of control. That it was raining that night, that the car had simply caught the water wrong. But, I remember where I was that night, Shay. Something happened to me too that night, but... I remember that it wasn't raining. I remember hearing a commotion in the hall, and I heard Adam and Jay trying to wake Randy up."

"Oh," she murmured, unsure of what else to say. What else could be said?

"Then, Nick told us what happened, which was totally unfair, by the way." He spoke, and she rolled her eyes, having grown tired of what was fair and what wasn't. Phil's lips turned at the corners, and he ran a hand through his hair. "But, you wanna know something else? The following day I heard from Adam that you had almost died. Hell, everybody heard it. Me, Stephen, Mike, Cena," he took a breath. "Word traveled, and I realized I didn't want your last memory of your coworkers to be that we were all ignorant jackasses. And, I'll be honest, I thought you were annoying at first. That you were just there, always injured, always silent."

He took a breath, "You're a pretty cool chick. Damn near frightening when you're with AJ," he laughed, and she couldn't help but smile, "but, you're pretty cool."

Silence fell for a minute, and Shay cleared her throat. "Punk?" He looked at her. "Um, I know y-you don't believe in luck, but... how would you explain how I survived? Th-through Nick, and Dave, and John... I really should've been dead by now." She laughed dryly. "If you look at it head on, and you take into account everything I've been through..."

His eyebrow rose. "Are you saying you wanted to die?"

"No, no, not at all," Shay tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just... I'm thankful I'm still here, trust me, I am. H-Had it happened to anyone else, there'd be the thought in the back of my mind, behind every voice saying that I'm glad that person is alive, asking how in the hell did they survive."

His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and he gave it a pat, "If you're asking me how you survived something that should've killed you, I'll respond that, Shay, if it should've killed you, it would've." Phil gave her a small smile. "If you should've died by now, you would've. And I'm not saying that, had you died then, you would've died when you should've. No, those are two totally different things. You're still here because you are."

"Thanks." Shay stood, and he followed suit. "Really, thank you."

"It's really no problem. I'll talk to you later, Shay." He smiled, waving as she started down the hall. She frowned, knowing all too well that the more free time she had, the more time she had to think, which, depending on what her mind drifted to, could've been a good or bad thing. Currently, it seemed like a bad thing. Ever since she came back from Florida, she had this weird, tight feeling in her chest. Anxiety, or some bubbling emotion that gripped and gnawed at her. It seemed that she felt more self-conscious than usual.

She wrapped her cardigan around her tighter, wrapping her arms around herself. Her mind tried to reason in why. Why he pulled away. Why he had even started kissing her in the first place. Why she was so bothered that he had pulled away. The questions swam in her mind, and she just wanted silence. For her mind to just shut up and give her some rest. To be able to sleep at night, to be able to be okay with things and just continue on with her life.

"Shay!" She knew that voice, and her nose crinkled as she turned slightly to acknowledge him.

"Cody." Shay tilted her head the side as he jogged to catch her. "H-How can I help you?"

"I just, uh... we haven't talked in a while." He smiled, and she wondered why it was ever so alluring to her. Shay nodded, knowing he was right, and knowing there was a reason for it. She simply didn't want to talk to him. He just didn't take the hint. "And, I was wondering if you ever thought about my, uh... offer. It was an offer, wasn't it? Or, like, if you had thought about it." He shrugged. "Because I have this insane attraction to you, and I think we'd be perfect together."

"Cody," Shay began, stopping herself from biting her lip, "I heard you use that line on Karlee three weeks ago." Her hands went inside her pockets, and she cleared her throat. "And I've declined. Uh, I declined months ago, actually. And I apologize for neglecting to inform you that your pick-up lines won't work on me. B-Believe me, I thought about it. I did, and I just can't see it happening. I told you before, and I'm telling you again. Th-There's nothing between us, Cody."

Cody stood, his lips pursing as he glanced around. With a nervous chuckle he ran a hand through his hair. "I just got rejected by Shay Hart. Huh," he muttered, his hands on his hips. "I think I'm just going to go now. I won't bother you again." She was surprised at how easily he took it, and she had expected him to say that it was her loss. He waved and went off in another direction. She didn't bring up the fact that she knew he had lied. There wasn't a point in it. Her eyebrows rose in surprise and she waved back as he disappeared from view.

Her hand wrapped around her phone, and she checked it. Nothing. No new messages. She would've expected Stephen's name to scroll across the screen, blinking that a new message was waiting for her. But it wasn't. He wasn't asking where she was, or who she was with. They had gotten into something that neither of them really wanted to talk about, and, if the other had, they weren't prodding about it. He was giving her space, she figured. He had picked up on the fact that she wanted to be left alone. She knew that he'd wait, he'd be patient until she told him what was on her mind, or he coaxed her into telling.

She just didn't know how she was going to tell him what was on her mind recently. Until then, though, she'd be perfectly content with the space given. The more space she had, the less she had to talk to him about it. It. That one tiny little fear that always plagued her mind. The thought that maybe, just maybe, she was falling in love again. She wasn't afraid of dying, it was love that scared her half to death.