~
"Are you really here?" The words left his lips softly, and he never took his eyes way from hers. She could feel a maturing intensity arise between them, her heart beating faster, her breathing quickening...it was because of the way he was looking at her...
She didn't answer him...just gazed at him...the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes...he had always been stunning, and still was...
Lita never moved as his hand reached out to brush against her cheek, his skin warm and soft, his touch gentle. But then she saw it...the sudden flicker in his eyes as he pulled away from her...it was that flicker that reminded her that it really was Chris Jericho she was standing in front of...
"You've put on weight," he sneered, looking her up and down.
The brunette scowled. Yeah, it was definitely Jericho. Ignoring his comment, the woman said, much more confidently, "I just came to talk, can I come in?"
"If you can fit through the door," he smirked, then turned and walked down his brightly-lit hallway, disappearing through what she remembered to be the kitchen door.
Lita stood there for a while, contemplating whether to enter or to turn and run...she still had the chance...but she had already come this far...
She walked into the house, closing the front door behind her and dropped her bag on the ground. She looked about, noticing how tidy the place was and jumped when the chime of an old grandfather-clock reminded her that it was way past her bedtime.
She walked down the hall, and pushed open the door that Jericho had entered. Sure enough, he was standing over the kitchen sink with his back to her, and she spotted a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his right hand.
"So what do you want Lita?" he asked, pouring the whiskey down the drain.
"I want your help," She answered. He turned to stare at her with those blue eyes again and she had a hard time breaking eye contact.
"With what?" he wanted to know, leaning against the sink and folding his arms.
Lita was a little startled by his emotionless reaction...she thought he would have laughed at her or berated her, but he hadn't...yet...
"Eric Bischoff. We're going to get rid of him from the WWE and we need people to help us. We need *you* Jericho,"
The blonde Canadian frowned. He walked towards her, only for the brunette to step backwards, away from him, until her back was pressed against a wall.
"Look at you Lita. You appear out of nowhere after six years...*six years* dammit! And you say you need my help?...you hate me Lita, remember? *I* was the asshole that gladly put you in the 'Walls of Jericho' without a moments hesitation and enjoyed hearing your screams. *I* was the jerk who happily turned my back on our friendship and made sure you realised that I didn't like you anymore. *I* was the guy who laughed when creeps in the back made crude comments about you, just to make sure everyone knew I hated you..."
"...And you were the man who helped set me up to be dumped and fired, live on national television...I know all this Jericho," She said softly with tears forming, wishing she *had* turned and run earlier on. The wrestler was within inches of her and she was feeling more than a little uncomfortable with him being so close.
He smiled, and Lita didn't know if this made her feel at ease or even more wary.
"And you still came here. To ask for my help," he shook his head, a pained expression taking form across his handsome features...this momentary action allowing the brunette to slip away from him and once again obtain some space between them.
"I didn't want to come here. I phoned you and you hung up on me."
She told him, wiping at her eyes. She wouldn't let him make her cry...no...she'd *never* let him make her cry.
"It was a strange feeling you know. Getting a phone call from a dead woman," he almost laughed that time but the woman seemed extremely confused by what he'd just said.
"What do you mean? I'm not dead," she frowned and he threw her a look that she couldn't describe.
"You were to me," he muttered, but it was loud enough for Lita to hear, and that was the final straw for the former redhead.
She ran down the hall, willing herself not to cry and grabbed her bag. She went to open the door, but a large hand covered hers as she reached for the handle.
"Wait, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."
Lita turned to face pleading eyes with her watery ones and spoke quietly, "You're a confusing man Jericho, one minute you tell me you hate me and the next you tell me you're sorry. I don't know what you want from me?"
The man sighed, "I don't want anything, it's just...it's been a long time and I don't know what to say to you"
"You could say that you'll help us," The brunette spoke softly, looking up at him. She wasn't sure what to expect next from the man. Although she'd never admit it, his random reactions were scaring the hell out of her and she had to keep on guard for her own safety...he'd hurt her before...he could do it again right?
She glanced down, remembering his hand was covering hers and pulled it away, shoving it nervously into her jean pocket.
Jericho didn't seem to notice too much, "Okay," he said.
Lita couldn't believe her ears. He'd actually said yes...
"Thank you," she produced a small but genuine smile for him and he appeared to be taken aback by that tiny gesture. He couldn't remember the last time she had smiled for him.
"This doesn't mean I like you though," Jericho said, and the former redhead had to refrain from rolling her eyes.
"As long as you let me stay here for the night, I couldn't care less," Lita shrugged, adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder.
Jericho nodded, "Good. Follow me,"
She smiled to herself as he walked off down the hall. She couldn't wait to see Stephanie's face the next day when she turned up with Chris Jericho.
"Are you coming?" A sarcastic voice yelled, bringing her back to reality.
"Yeah, asshole," she muttered under her breath as she followed him to the spare room.
She just had to get through that night, and then tomorrow would surely be a day to remember...
~
"Are you really here?" The words left his lips softly, and he never took his eyes way from hers. She could feel a maturing intensity arise between them, her heart beating faster, her breathing quickening...it was because of the way he was looking at her...
She didn't answer him...just gazed at him...the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes...he had always been stunning, and still was...
Lita never moved as his hand reached out to brush against her cheek, his skin warm and soft, his touch gentle. But then she saw it...the sudden flicker in his eyes as he pulled away from her...it was that flicker that reminded her that it really was Chris Jericho she was standing in front of...
"You've put on weight," he sneered, looking her up and down.
The brunette scowled. Yeah, it was definitely Jericho. Ignoring his comment, the woman said, much more confidently, "I just came to talk, can I come in?"
"If you can fit through the door," he smirked, then turned and walked down his brightly-lit hallway, disappearing through what she remembered to be the kitchen door.
Lita stood there for a while, contemplating whether to enter or to turn and run...she still had the chance...but she had already come this far...
She walked into the house, closing the front door behind her and dropped her bag on the ground. She looked about, noticing how tidy the place was and jumped when the chime of an old grandfather-clock reminded her that it was way past her bedtime.
She walked down the hall, and pushed open the door that Jericho had entered. Sure enough, he was standing over the kitchen sink with his back to her, and she spotted a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his right hand.
"So what do you want Lita?" he asked, pouring the whiskey down the drain.
"I want your help," She answered. He turned to stare at her with those blue eyes again and she had a hard time breaking eye contact.
"With what?" he wanted to know, leaning against the sink and folding his arms.
Lita was a little startled by his emotionless reaction...she thought he would have laughed at her or berated her, but he hadn't...yet...
"Eric Bischoff. We're going to get rid of him from the WWE and we need people to help us. We need *you* Jericho,"
The blonde Canadian frowned. He walked towards her, only for the brunette to step backwards, away from him, until her back was pressed against a wall.
"Look at you Lita. You appear out of nowhere after six years...*six years* dammit! And you say you need my help?...you hate me Lita, remember? *I* was the asshole that gladly put you in the 'Walls of Jericho' without a moments hesitation and enjoyed hearing your screams. *I* was the jerk who happily turned my back on our friendship and made sure you realised that I didn't like you anymore. *I* was the guy who laughed when creeps in the back made crude comments about you, just to make sure everyone knew I hated you..."
"...And you were the man who helped set me up to be dumped and fired, live on national television...I know all this Jericho," She said softly with tears forming, wishing she *had* turned and run earlier on. The wrestler was within inches of her and she was feeling more than a little uncomfortable with him being so close.
He smiled, and Lita didn't know if this made her feel at ease or even more wary.
"And you still came here. To ask for my help," he shook his head, a pained expression taking form across his handsome features...this momentary action allowing the brunette to slip away from him and once again obtain some space between them.
"I didn't want to come here. I phoned you and you hung up on me."
She told him, wiping at her eyes. She wouldn't let him make her cry...no...she'd *never* let him make her cry.
"It was a strange feeling you know. Getting a phone call from a dead woman," he almost laughed that time but the woman seemed extremely confused by what he'd just said.
"What do you mean? I'm not dead," she frowned and he threw her a look that she couldn't describe.
"You were to me," he muttered, but it was loud enough for Lita to hear, and that was the final straw for the former redhead.
She ran down the hall, willing herself not to cry and grabbed her bag. She went to open the door, but a large hand covered hers as she reached for the handle.
"Wait, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."
Lita turned to face pleading eyes with her watery ones and spoke quietly, "You're a confusing man Jericho, one minute you tell me you hate me and the next you tell me you're sorry. I don't know what you want from me?"
The man sighed, "I don't want anything, it's just...it's been a long time and I don't know what to say to you"
"You could say that you'll help us," The brunette spoke softly, looking up at him. She wasn't sure what to expect next from the man. Although she'd never admit it, his random reactions were scaring the hell out of her and she had to keep on guard for her own safety...he'd hurt her before...he could do it again right?
She glanced down, remembering his hand was covering hers and pulled it away, shoving it nervously into her jean pocket.
Jericho didn't seem to notice too much, "Okay," he said.
Lita couldn't believe her ears. He'd actually said yes...
"Thank you," she produced a small but genuine smile for him and he appeared to be taken aback by that tiny gesture. He couldn't remember the last time she had smiled for him.
"This doesn't mean I like you though," Jericho said, and the former redhead had to refrain from rolling her eyes.
"As long as you let me stay here for the night, I couldn't care less," Lita shrugged, adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder.
Jericho nodded, "Good. Follow me,"
She smiled to herself as he walked off down the hall. She couldn't wait to see Stephanie's face the next day when she turned up with Chris Jericho.
"Are you coming?" A sarcastic voice yelled, bringing her back to reality.
"Yeah, asshole," she muttered under her breath as she followed him to the spare room.
She just had to get through that night, and then tomorrow would surely be a day to remember...
~