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Remove all the spacings first, though. For some reason, FF net removes web addresses. This was the only way I could post it. Bleah.
Snow had just begun to fall on a cold winter Paris night- slowly, gently, like petals of jasmine falling from the sky. The air was chilly, but the young man made no move to cover himself from the cold. To him, the winter air was nothing—loneliness was colder in its vengeance.
He stared out at the sidewalks, watching couples walk by, holding each other. Everyone seemed to be walking in pairs, and he thought, yes, loneliness is colder indeed.
A few stray snowflakes had made their way near his coffee cup, settling there and melting away. There was always coffee in Paris, no matter the time or the place or weather, and he found that he preferred it to the boring tea Stacy adored.
He continued to hang around in that coffee shop, mildly wondering what the hell was wrong with him exactly, that not only did he choose the tourist magnet of the whole damn city, but also because he wasn't inclined to leave. He pulled out a few bills, ready to bail, but he felt a heaviness he couldn't identify, and he stayed, watching lovers go by. He then declared himself a masochistic freak.
Or maybe, he was just trying to punish himself.
Paris, the city of love. It wasn't a surprise. In the middle of it all, he stood out, alone, loveless. What the hell was he doing in such a place, anyway?
He had been in parts of the world less lonely than this, where everywhere he turned he was reminded of love and his apparent lack of it. There was New York—ever busy, people running around as if their lives depended on it, where most of the time, it did. China—overpopulated, noisy nationalistic people that spoke in sharp tones. Holland—open fields, picture perfect skies, sentimentalists.
Yet, he went to the City of Lights to nurse a coffee and, of all things, a broken heart.
He felt it more appropriate to drench his heart in wine. Surely, somewhere in this city, there was a bar for people like him. But he stayed, holding his sobering coffee, feeling it grow cold, much like the state of his heart.
The futility of it was depressing.
He sat a few minutes more, promising to leave as soon as his coffee had grown cold. Finally, when the cup had all but frozen over, he stood up, dusting the snow off his coat, his hair. It was then that he heard someone gasp faintly some few paces before him.
He looked up and was fairly tempted to gasp, himself.
"Randy," she said, brushing her red hair from her eyes and tucking the loose strands behind her ear.
He barely noticed that he had moved toward her. "Should I even ask, Lita?"
She could think of a million words to say, but found that she could not articulate. She blinked once and recovered her voice. "I— I could ask the same of you. Honeymooning?"
He shook his head, gesturing about himself. "I'm alone."
She didn't understand, at first, but she looked in his eyes and realization came slowly to her. "I'm sorry, but……I heard Trish say….I meant, well….you married….."
"Stacy," he supplied. "I did. Three years ago."
"I know…" she said softly. "I know."
xoxoxox
I know, Lita kept saying to herself. It was three years ago. I know.
I know. Even when she held him at night, kissed him in the morning. I know.
It had been crazy from the beginning, first borrowing time, and then stealing it altogether. Dodging the world because they should never know, it had to end some time soon, there was no way around it, and one day, it did.
"I love you," he told her, in the heat of noon, in the mist of midnight, holding her close she could feel his heart.
And she? She knew that ever since she laid eyes on him, there had been sparks abound, genuine attraction. She had spent her days wanting what wasn't hers, watching, wishing, praying. It just took one drunken night for her to realize her true feelings – she had fallen as hard as she could have. It was a strange illicit affair.
Granted, even when they were together, she had never felt that he was really ever hers - she was just a side dish. She could care less, though. She would take whatever he offered her, even if it meant it would hurt when he left. She knew he would – he could never stay with her, be truly contented with her. No man had, just take a page from Matt Hardy.
Still, with the realization of the truth, the bitter reality hit home. It was especially hard after his announcement of his engagement to Stacy.
She didn't think that she had ever cried as much as she did as she had then.
That same night, in her apartment, much, much later, he came. For what purpose? She wasn't exactly sure. Maybe he wanted to play her knight in shining armour for the very last time? Did he realise that he had gotten the wrong princess?
"I'm getting married," he told her as he held her to him. "I'm marrying her."
Lita crumbled. "I know," she said as she buried her face into his shoulder, trying to imprint his scent, the last thing she hoped to take from him. "I know."
xoxoxox
"I should go," she said, then. "It was nice seeing you again." Lita nodded politely to him, smiling, and began to walk away.
"Wait," Randy said, instinctively grabbing her hand, not wanting to let go again. He feared she would become intangible if he let go.
She looked at him the best she could. "Wait for what?"
xoxoxox
On the day of his wedding, he had waited for someone to show up and halt the proceedings. He had been half-wishing it. But his bride marched up the aisle, he said his vows, exchanged rings and not a sound from the pews. When the minister declared "..or forever hold your peace," there was no sound, and he knew. He accepted his fate; married to a woman he thought he loved.
He stayed by her side three years before he realized that he could lie to himself no longer.
In the end, Stacy broke it off, from frustration, exhaustion. He packed his bags gladly and left the house. All he had left that was meant something to him was his work, which he threw himself into whole heartedly, praying that it would keep him busy enough to stop thinking of her. He volunteered for fan conferences whenever he was free, not wanting any spare time to himself. Many colleagues thought that he had taken one too many shots to the head. Hell, even Trips had been easy on him!
He had toured the world extensively, seen almost everything there was to see, but never did he see her. Sure, he had seen a lot of women who looked like her from the back, but every time he spun them around, they never bore the face he so desperately wanted, no, needed to see. It was almost as if she had vanished, had been a figment of his imagination.
Sometimes, in his locker room, the one he shared with Jericho, Randy would ask him if there had ever had been a wrestler named Lita, with red hair. He would always get the same reply.
xoxoxox
But today, tonight, his journey brought him to a coffee shop in Paris where he came face to face with her. The face that so often haunted his dreams.
"Wait… for me," he said then, finally, after a long time. "Wait for me, Lita."
Around them, couples, and the snow still falling. She looked at him, not afraid.
She smiled faintly, weighing her words.
"For the past three years, Randy," she whispered, "I have done nothing else but."
They began to walk, hand in hand, away from the coffee shop, away from the tourists. Side by side they walked away from the past, from the pain and the regret of loving each other but lying.
Perhaps one day, they would be finally cleared of the past and, just maybe, be able to move towards the future with each other.
END
Author's note:
This Randy/Lita fic was inspired by justagirl8225 fics. One-shot. Hope you liked it. Oh, and if anyone is reading it, please just drop me a note…say whatever you want. I just need to know if people are actually reading one-shots and if I should continue doing them.
If anyone is interested in being a beta, please let me know. I need someone to proof read my fics - they are just riddled with mistakes that I don't seem to catch till after posting.
Oh, if you feel like reading something funny, check out my other fic, The babysitter. Yes, shameless plug. I know.
P.S If you don't like the pairing, please feel free to copy this to notebook and use the search and replace function to change the names/details (eg.red hair to blond) before reading. I don't really mind...in fact, I've done that before. Just don't post it as your own.
Till next fic.