The Illustration Trilogy

Part 1 - Can't Wait to Love You (Chris Jericho/Trish Stratus)

Rating: PG13 for language, and later mildly sexual scenes. (But I didn't say who, so don't jump to conclusions. ;-))

Time Frame: None, really, though there are references and mentions of 2002. No current storylines that the characters are in play a part in this fiction.

Disclaimer: The characters are all property of the WWE. The actors are property of themselves.

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          I woke up the next morning with the sticky remains of my tears still crusted under my eyes. Lita was still sleeping, and she had a few hours more to rest before we were supposed to check out of the hotel, so I didn't make an attempt at waking her up.

          I laid in bed for probably a half hour longer, glancing around the room at nothing in particular. The previous day's events rushed through my mind, appearing in black and white when I closed my eyes. The sound of a quickening rain outside devoured my thoughts, to my delight, and I finally rolled to the side of the bed and stood up.

          My body felt so tense, and even stretching wouldn't stop the aching, so I decided to luxuriate in that pain that was overriding my emotions. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, letting hot water run into the tub. Thick steam rose from the scorching water, clouding the ceiling with a foggy mist.

          While the bathtub was filling, I walked toward the sink, and took the washcloth out, wringing it dry, and pouring fresh water onto it. I splashed the cloth over my face and looked into the mirror, brushing my hair back.

          I didn't look half as pale as I had the night before, but my eyes were still dark and miserable looking. I put on a fake smile, but it did nothing for my sorrowful expression. I just turned the faucet off and walked back over to the tub.

          Taking a deep breath, I inhaled the heat in the air, the rising smoke flowing off of the searing water. I bent over and turned the knob marked 'H' until the water stopped pouring from the spigot. Leaning a bit more, I grabbed the other knob and turned it until a rush of icy water splashed into the pool of hot liquid.

          While the rest of the water filled up, I undressed and hung a towel from the rack adjacent to the tub. I turned off the cold water, and carefully stepped into the tepid mixture. Slowly sitting in the tub, I tried to relax and let the warmth and relaxation comfort me.

          It had never felt so good to be alone. I actually felt refreshed, even though I knew as soon as I stepped out of that mindset and went to the show that night that I'd feel just the same, if not more hurt, as I had the day before. But for the moment, I let sereneness engulf me, and I made a desperate attempt not to think of Chris, or confessing to Lita, or any reality of the day before.

          After the bath, I dressed myself and got ready to leave the hotel. I walked back out into the room to find that Lita was awake and packing. "Hey Lita," I said plainly as I walked back to my bed to fold the sheets and blanket over the pillows.

          "Morning, Trish." She took a deep breath, and continued bagging her belongings. "There goes our last free weekend of the season."

          "Oh, thanks for reminding me," I said sarcastically, with a hint of laughter, as I rolled my eyes at her. "Way to rain on my parade, Li, I was having a good morning." I smiled wide and walked toward her, sitting on the end of her bed.

          "Well, by the look on your face, I'd say you still are." She met me at the end of the bed and put an arm around me, sitting beside me. "How are you holding up, babe?"

          I took a few seconds to think before I replied to her. "Well, knowing I'm going to see him today, after telling you, I'm not sure." I looked over at her, my eyes honest on hers. "I just hope Stacy isn't with him or I might do something I'll regret. Yesterday I just felt like diving between them and laying myself out in front of him, no more secrets."

          "I know sweetie, it's hard… I'm sure you'll be fine tonight. Just… whatever you do, make sure you think before you act." She gave me a short hug, and stood back up. She zipped her bag and put it next to the doorway. "Here, I'll help you pack."

          When we were finished checking out of the hotel, we drove for half the day to the next arena. We would have left the night before were it not for the delay I caused. I was sure everyone else had been checked out and were already nearing the city we were performing in that night.

          The car ride was mostly spent listening to the radio and talking about our show. I could tell Lita was having a difficult time not bringing up my situation, and it was obvious she didn't know when was a good time to talk about it. It was a nice effort made on her part to respect my feelings and give me some time to relax.

          We pulled into the next hotel first, and unpacked quickly, leaving the things we needed for the show in the trunk of our rental car. We had one hell of a time trying to find the arena, since Lita and I had never been there before. The guys we worked with who had tighter, more full schedules had been there, but Li and I had trouble remembering the last time we were even in the city.

          She and I went straight to the locker room, having to ask a few people for directions first. The rest of the girls were there, even though only two of us had a match. Lita was battling Molly. Their match was second on the card, and it was already ten minutes into the show.

          Victoria and Molly rushed up to us, telling Lita to get ready, and elaborating on the fact that we were late, even though it was just a little bit. "I guess we shouldn't have stopped at the hotel first, huh Trish?" she asked, looking over at me. I giggled and shrugged, helping Li unpack her gear.

          "Hey Trish, I saw you at the bar last night!"

          I looked over my shoulder and saw Stacy standing over me. My eyes widened. She had seen me at the bar?… That couldn't possibly be a good thing. Not at all.

          "Y-you did?" I choked, grabbing a few things out of Lita's bag and then turning to face Stacy, sitting on the bench.

          "Yeah! I was going to say hi, but I was with Chris and everything, and you looked… kinda like you had better things to do than talk to me, and Matt and Christian were there and, well, I couldn't really get out of talking with them."

          I didn't catch half her words. I was just shocked at the notion that she had seen me. When? What was I doing? How had I not seen her see me! I felt a feeling of doom cross me, almost like an 'uh-oh' type feeling that can't really be put into words.

          "When… did you see me? I didn't, um, see you there," I lied.  I did a terrible job of hiding that I'd seen her, I just tried to minimize the guilt the best way I knew how- cover up.

          "Hmm… well it was maybe a few minutes before you left," she said. Immediately I knew she had seen me crying, and I felt like I had boxed myself into a corner. How was I going to worm out of this one? "You looked sad, did something happen?"

          She sounded so innocently concerned; chipper but still behaving like a loyal friend. I retaliated with more false excuses. "Oh, um… no, I just felt sick to my stomach. Yeah, Li helped me out. I guess it was just the smell in the air. And it was really hot in the bar."

          She sat next to me. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you feel better?" I nodded and smiled at her, trying to back up my lies with a show of appreciation for her generosity.

          "Well, look, Trish… we haven't really been able to see much of each other lately, and uh, and I miss all the hanging out we used to do, you know? Whaddya say after the show we go grab some ice cream or something?"

          I hesitated a bit, trying to come up with an excuse. It wasn't that I didn't want to spend time with Stacy. Quite the contrary, actually, I really missed palling around with her, but I wasn't sure we'd be able to get through a night without Chris being brought up, and how I would handle that… God, I don't know. "Um, yeah that sounds great actually, but… I think Lita will probably want to go straight back to the hotel after her match and… we only have one keycard and I don't want to wake her up by knocking or anything."

          So my excuse was a bit farfetched…  but it worked. Stacy said that she was disappointed, but we could get together sometime during the week. That came as a relief to me, because I had a feeling that if I had gone that night, I would have been faced with something I couldn't deal with.

          The rest of the night I pretty much kept to myself. After Lita's match, which she won very cleanly, we went to catering where we got some snacks.  Soon after, we went back to the hotel and settled in for the night. We had another show the next day and wanted to get a good night's sleep.

          "Li, do you want something to drink real quick? There's a vending machine down the hall," I asked her, turning the handle on the door slowly.

          "Uh, sure! Grab me a lemonade or something sugary." For some reason, sugar and caffeine always helped Lita sleep. That was one thing that I found incomprehensibly odd about her, but it was something unique to Lita, and brought some comfort to me.

          I stepped out of the room and left the door open ajar behind me. The hall I walked was completely vacant, the air still and silent until I rounded a corner and saw, again, Chris and Stacy. Everywhere I went, they were. It was as if the two of them were unconsciously trying to ruin any moment of peace I found.

          I took a breath the moment I saw them, and stepped backwards so that I was behind the corner, peering slightly over at them. I was going to have to wait until they were gone to buy the drinks.

          I hadn't even known they were staying at the hotel; that was another ironic part of having them everywhere I went. It seemed like something in the air, something I couldn't see or feel, was doing this to break me. That whole 'puppet on a string' simile came into play every time I saw them.

          Stacy was leaned up against the door of what I could only guess was either she or Chris' hotel room. Chris stood to the side of her, leaning with one shoulder against the wall, and playing with Stacy's hair with his other hand. Even the slightest gestures of adoration they used on one another made me ridiculously jealous. I couldn't feel anything but loss, hopelessness, and pity for myself.

          The same "I love you"s and affectionate phrases I had grown to be used to rung lightly through the wide hall, stinging my ears not nearly as bad as the first time I'd heard those three words from them. I couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be the one Chris was speaking to right then.

          It wasn't the words they said, or the tone of voice in which they were spoken that stuck me right then. I noticed something familiar in his eyes when he told her goodbye. That was the same look he gave me when we were together in Erie. As he told Stacy he loved her, he was looking at her with exactly the same expression, same soft, warm eyes, same sweet smile. Everything was the same…

          My heart started beating a million miles per second, and I lost control seeing that look in him again. I had never seen him look at anyone else that way, but I could see it so plainly now. The same look he gave Stacy, the woman he claimed to love so much, was the look he had given me before that threw me head over heels for him.

          I didn't know what words that look was attached to when he gave it to me that night. I still couldn't read that, as open as he was. But now, he had given words to that numbing stare. Words for Stacy, but still, words that were part of that look of his that I once received. That look didn't just belong to me anymore… it belonged to the one he loved, and the notion of that gaze meaning 'love' was something I couldn't even bare… because it was only mine for some time.

So many questions started to flood through my mind, taking my train of thought away from everything that wasn't him. I swore to God that was exactly the same intense, truthful, open look… his eyes so delicately warm through the ice blue color. His lips so soft as they curled. The sweet, subtle proof that everything he said to Stacy was true, but I still refused to believe.

If he loved her with that look, what was it for me two years ago? As they shared a kiss and Stacy departed down the hall, I stepped out from the corner. Chris retreated to his room, shutting the door behind him. I eyed the vending machine just yards down the hall, but my heart drove me straight to Chris' door.

I had no idea what I was doing, but the moment, my heart, my mind, everything in my was captured in thought of what that gaze really meant. I lost my sense of control, and any other sense I had… and before I could bring it down, and turn away, my fist was tapping on the steel door of his room.

As the handle turned and the door slowly opened, I realized just where I was, but I couldn't turn back. He saw me, and I saw him, and for the first time since so very long ago, I had willingly put myself in front of Chris Jericho.