Rating: PG-13 for some cursing.
Disclaimer: Don't own anythingggggg... not the characters, not the song, nothing.
It's You And Me
The soft, sweet feel of his lips on hers still lingered. She could still smell his cologne on her pillow from the night before. She moved a little closer to the middle of the bed and rested her head on his pillow, inhaling his signature scent with a contented sigh. Twenty-four hours ago, things had been perfect. They had been lying in bed, happily holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes when she'd ruined the moment, and quite possibly their relationship as well. Those three words. With those words she'd ran him out of her bed and most likely out of her life. All because she'd told the truth.
"I like this… it just feels right."
With a nod, Trish Stratus grinned up at John Cena and gripped his hand tighter. "It does feel right," she agreed as she snuggled closer to his chest and closed her eyes. She could just feel it - this was one of those moments that she'd remember forever, and she wanted to make sure it was perfect. "John, I uhm…"
"What's up, babe?" John questioned, caressing her cheek softly. He pressed a small kiss to her cheek and waited for her to continue.
"Well, I don't know exactly how to say this, but it just feels like the right time, and I…" Trish paused momentarily and looked up at John again. The smile spread across his face made her grin as well and any worries she had previously had about what she planned to say flew out the window. She was fine, they were fine, and she was about to make things even better between them.
"Girl, what is it?" John rolled his eyes playfully, sighing loudly as he did so. "Keep me in suspense, why don't ya?"
Trish rolled her eyes in return and pulled John's arm towards her, pressing their intertwined hands to her chest. She closed her eyes and leaned in close to him. "That… is my heart," she explained, almost giggling at the confused look on John's face. "Do you feel it beating fast? That's what you do to me, Cena. I tried to deny it at first, but you make me nervous, and I get flustered and my heart starts pounding like crazy. …But it's good. I like it. And I like you. As a matter of fact, John, I… I love you."
She breathed a sigh of relief and opened her eyes, looking up to see John's reaction. What she saw, though, was not what she'd expected. John didn't look as happy as she did… as a matter of fact, he looked upset.
"John? Uh, did you hear me?"
"Yeah, I heard you," John replied, not meeting Trish's eyes. He looked past her head, a blank look on his face. He pulled his hand from her grasp and used it to ruffle his short hair. After a moment, he sat up and pushed the blankets away from his legs. "I hafta go."
"What? John, it's after midnight," she sat up as well, her eyes wide as she watched him stand and walk over to where his jean shorts were lying on the floor. Without looking up, he pulled on the shorts and buttoned them. "John…" Trish spoke again, this time her voice quivered slightly. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing, Trish, alright? I'm fine, but I have some stuff to do. I'll… uhm, I'll see you later." Without turning back, he slid on his shirt and slipped his feet in the white Adidas he'd been wearing.
Trish blinked back the tears welling in her eyes and cleared her throat. "John, I'm sorry… I didn't mean to scare you, but…"
"You didn't scare me," John spoke, his voice a little too loud. He spun around, and at the sight of Trish's red face and watery eyes, his features softened considerably. "Look, I'm…. I'm sorry, okay? But things are just getting a little too deep for me, and right now the most important thing to me has to be my career. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted to hear, but it's the truth. I can't be getting' distracted with things like this."
"Like what?" Trish shot back, climbing off the bed. "Like being with someone who cares about you? You're telling me you can't be distracted by a woman you cares about enough to put her heart out there and tell you she loves you? Well then, I'm sorry, John. I'm sorry for being such a big fuckin' distraction."
John didn't reply, instead opting to sigh deeply and rub his hands over his face. After a moment, he looked at Trish - her quivering bottom lip, the stray hairs clinging to her face, her hands clasped together at her waist and wringing out the bottom of her over-sized t-shirt.
"I'm sorry, John."
After taking another deep breath, John turned away from Trish and took his hat off of the dresser. He stood with his back to her for a moment, then headed to the door, exiting without saying another word.
THE NEXT DAY
Trish groaned loudly as the beginning of John's song 'Right Now' began to play on her stereo. Of course the local Toronto radio station she listened to constantly would start to play John's music right after they'd broken up. It was one of this crazy, ironic things the gods did to torture her. She reached over and flipped the radio off, then turned back to the mess on her floor. It was a collection of things John had left over at her place when he'd stayed over. The pile included everything from random sports jerseys to baseball caps to CDs to a notebook filled with raps. Of course there were also presents he'd given her, like the small teddy bear she'd gotten for her birthday.
She plopped down onto the floor and started shoving things into the brown box before her, starting with a football jersey. She started to fold it neatly, then rolled her eyes and crumpled the article of clothing into a ball and shot it like a basketball into the box. She made it in, then started tossing things one by one. She was halfway through when the phone rang. With a loud groan she stood and headed towards the stand. She picked up the phone and checked the caller ID. She recognized the number as Stacy's, but set the phone back down on the stand anyway. She was sure Stacy had heard something about her breakup with John, and she wasn't exactly in the mood to divulge details and discuss what a big jackass Stacy always knew John was. The truth was that everyone loved John, and no one could have seen this move coming.
Before Trish had tried (and failed) to share her feelings with John, things had been great. They had been dating for five and a half months, and the only fight they had ever had was over whether or not John should change the WWE Championship belt to look 'blinged out' as he had liked to refer to the remodeling of his belt. They had argued for about an hour before they came to the conclusion that they would just agree to disagree. Trish thought changing the belt was wrong, and John thought it was necessary for his character. And they never spoke of it again. Of course, telling someone you loved them and not having the sentiment returned was quite different than arguing over a belt. You couldn't make up an hour later when someone you loved didn't love you back.
"UGH!" Trish exclaimed, falling backwards onto her bed. The worst part of the breakup was the fact that she couldn't avoid John even if she tried. In the past when her relationships had ended, she would avoid places where her exes would be, but with John that wouldn't work since they worked at the same places - on the same brand, as a matter of fact. Not to mention the fact that they had the same friends, so unless she wanted to quit her job and avoid her friends for the rest of her life, she was going to have to face the fact that she would be seeing John a lot, even if she didn't want to. She could just avoid him, she figured. Make him feel like a jerk for hurting her the way he did. Yeah, that was what she'd do.
As she rolled onto her side, Trish's eye caught a picture sitting on her stand. She reached up and grabbed the frame, pulling it down next to her. The picture was of her and John, three months earlier, backstage at a Raw event. They had been with Stacy and Randy, getting ready to go out on a double date to some bar. They were dressed and ready go, waiting for Randy to finish up his hair, when Stacy pulled out a camera and pointed it in Trish's direction.
"Stacy Keibler, if you take a picture of me right now, I will shoot you in the foot."
"Ooh, threatening," Stacy replied, rolling her eyes as she sat on the couch opposite of the chair John occupied.
"Come on, babe," John said, pulling Trish into his lap. She struggled for a moment, but John wrapped his arms tightly around her waist and eventually she stopped fighting and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Go ahead, Stace, take the picture."
"Ugh," Trish groaned. She lightly punched John in the arm, but turned her head towards the camera and offered a fake smile. Right before Stacy snapped the picture, John pressed his lips to Trish's temple, this time receiving a genuine smile from her. Stacy happily clicked the picture and caught the moment on film.
When Trish awoke it was dark outside. She blinked a few times and sat up, looking around the dark bedroom. She could hear her cell phone ringing, but she couldn't tell exactly where it was until she saw it light up on the stand. She groaned and reached out for it. The caller ID once again said Stacy, but this time she actually answered it.
"Trish, I tried calling you earlier."
"Yeah, I know," Trish replied, rubbing at her eyes. "I wasn't really in the mood to talk earlier, Stace."
"Oh, yeah, I figured that. But, I uhm… I just had to tell you about John…"
"I don't want to hear about John right now, Stacy. Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it."
There was a short pause. "He's in the hospital, Trish."
"What?" Trish questioned, jumping up. A knot started forming in her throat. "What did you just say?"
"John's in the hospital."
"What happened?"
"Well, we're not totally sure yet, but he was walking somewhere and he was on the phone or something - he was distracted, basically, and he walked into the road and some car came speeding out of nowhere. He tried to dodge it, but it still got him."
"Oh my God," Trish breathed. She tried to swallow the knot in her throat, but instead it just got bigger as tears started to spill from her eyes. "Is… is he okay?"
"As far as we know," she replied, sighing from her end of the phone. "Randy got the phone call from Marc, because I guess he was on the phone with John when he got hit, but Marc hasn't gotten there yet, so no one's really sure."
"Where is he?"
"Boston."
Without a second thought, Trish jumped off the bed and grabbed her purse. "I have to go, Stacy." She headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She stopped at the door to grab her car keys and a jacket and then headed out the side door to her car. "I'll call you later."
"Okay, but Trish…"
"Yeah?"
"Call us when you know how he is?"
Through her tears, Trish forced a tiny smile. "Of course."
After losing her purse and fighting with a security guard at the Boston Airport, Trish was in a cab on her way to the hospital John was in. On the plane she'd called John's cousin Marc and pumped him for information. The only helpful facts she'd gotten were that he was in Massachusetts General Hospital and that he was doing okay. Marc had booked a flight for the next day, and John's father and two of his brothers were already at the hospital with him.
As the cab approached the hospital, Trish handed the driver her fare and almost jumped out of the car. She headed inside and went directly to the front desk. "Excuse me, ma'am," she spoke, her voice low. "I need to get information on a man who was brought in her earlier."
The young woman in front of the computer looked up. "Name?"
"John Cena."
"Are you family?"
"I'm his… no, I'm not family."
"Well, we can only give information out to family. I'm sorry, Miss."
Trish narrowed her eyes, ready to start screaming at any second, but she didn't get the chance. A familiar voice called out to her and spun around. The sight of John's father standing before her nearly caused her to break down and cry. "Mr. Cena," she spoke quietly, her voice quivering. Tears threatened to spill yet again, but she fought them back as she had been doing all night.
John's father, John Sr., opened his arms and Trish stepped into them, hugging the elder Cena tightly. "Hello, sweetheart," he spoke, squeezing her gently. "Do you want to see him?"
Trish nodded into his chest and slowly pulled away.
"We weren't sure you'd come… you know, after what happened between you two."
"I need to be here," Trish explained. "I have to be."
They rounded a corner and John Sr. stopped abruptly. He pointed to the room in front of him and motioned for Trish to enter. She nodded and gave him a quick hug, then reached for the doorknob. She took a deep breath and step inside.
She tiptoed to the bed and looked down at John. He was sleeping - she knew because his chest rose slightly with each shallow breath he took. He was hooked up to multiple machines, and there was an IV stuck into his left hand. There was a small white bandage over his right eye, and she could see a faint bruise underneath the eye. Careful not to wake him, she took a seat on the side, to the left of him. She took another deep breath and tried to calm herself as she reached a shaky hand out to stroke his hair. She jumped back and stood when he began to stir slightly. She waited for him to go back to sleep, but instead, he opened his eyes and blinked multiple times, then groaned.
"What the fuck is goin' on?" He questioned, looking down at his hand, then at the bed he was on. He looked at everything in the room, then his eyes found Trish. He looked her up and down, then finally met her eyes. "Oh shit," he cursed, his voice hoarse and his eyes slightly glazed over.
"John?" Trish questioned, her voice quiet as she watched John's eyes widened.
"Oh… shit," he repeated, closing his eyes and throwing his head back on the pillow.
"Do you feel okay? Do you need something?"
"I'm fine."
She nodded and rocked back and forth on her heels. "So, what's the damage?"
"Hit my head - minor concussion, broke a rib, sprained an ankle… nothin' too bad."
"Oh my God," Trish breathed, raising a hand to cover her mouth. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine," he replied, pushing himself up a little bit. "Why are you here?"
She shifted from foot to foot, but didn't look up. "I heard you were in the hospital, so I came."
"But why?"
"What do you mean why?"
"Trish, we had a fight," he explained. "Normally when something like that happens, you don't fly to a different country just to see if they're okay."
"I just needed to come," Trish replied, her eyes sincere as she met his. "I needed to."
He nodded and moved himself a little bit to the left, groaning as he did so. Once he was settled, he patted the empty spot next to him and motioned for Trish to sit. She did, but she made sure to keep some space between the two of them.
"So," John began. "I, uhm… thanks for coming."
"It's no problem," she assured him, shaking her head. "I would've come even if you didn't want me to."
He reached out to touch her hand, but she pulled away, clasping her hands together in her lap. She looked at the tiles on the floor and inched a little closer to the edge of the hospital bed.
"Look, Trish…"
"John, I'm glad you're okay," Trish cut him off. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then turned her attention back to the floor. "I freaked when I heard you were hurt, but now I've seen you, and you're fine, so I better get going." She stood and turned to leave.
John watched as she headed out of the room. She paused in front of the door, her hand hovering over the knob, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to go. After a moment of silence, she reached for the knob and turned it, then pulled the door open and took a step out of the room. She was about to take another when John called out to her, his voice quiet and shaky.
"Trish, please."
She stopped in her tracks, but didn't turn around.
"Trish," he repeated. "Can you come back in here, please?"
She stepped back into the room and closed the door behind her. "What?"
"I…" he sighed. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For what happened the other night. For being such a jerk."
"John, if that's how you feel, then that's how you feel. It's better that you're honest with me than leading me on and making me believe we had something going on."
"But we did have somethin', Trish. I… I just don't know…"
"Well you need to figure it out, John, because I can't read your mind. What do you want from me?"
All of the things that I want to say Just aren't coming out right I'm tripping on words, you got my head spinning I don't know where to go from here
"I want you, Trish. Plain and simple. I know I said we were getting too deep, but I lied. I've just never told someone that I loved them and meant it. And I've never had someone honestly love me either. I was scared gettin' too serious would mean that one of us would end up hurt - and I didn't want it to be me. I'm so sorry, but after this whole stupid accident, I realized that bad things can happen at any given moment, and the things you love could be taken away from you. I don't want anything to happen to me without you knowin' the truth about how I feel for you."
"And what is that truth?" Trish questioned, raising an eyebrow as she took a few steps closer to John.
"The truth," he began, reaching out to grab her hand. "Is that I love you, Trish. I always have, but I've never had the guts to admit it to myself, much less you. I'm sorry it took so long to get out, but I hope it's not too late."
A small smile spread across Trish's lips and she took another step forward. She sat beside John on the bed and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to the cut on his forehead. "It's not too late, John Cena. I love you too. But…"
"But what?" John inquired, raising an eyebrow at Trish.
"What exactly happened today?"
John chuckled. "I was walking down the street, and I was on the phone with Marc. I walked into the road and some jackass was speeding down the road. I tried to get out of the way, but he still got me. I was kind of distracted."
"Because you were on the phone?"
"Kind of. I was on the phone, but I was telling Marc what a jackass I had been to you, and I wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing."
"Great, so now I can feel horrible because you were talking about me when you got hit."
"No! No, it was my fault. You had nothing to do with it. As a matter of fact, if I had just told you I loved you two nights ago, I never would've been in Boston at all. It was my stupidity." Trish nodded, but John could tell that she wasn't fully believing that the situation wasn't her fault. He smiled slyly and pulled her forward into his embrace, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "You feel better."
"Kind of. But I have a question."
"Okay, shoot."
"Well, you're injured, right?"
"Yeah…" he nodded.
"That means you can't go back to work for a while, correct?"
John nodded, understanding where she was going. "Yes."
"Well, then I know how I'll feel better."
"Okay, well how's that?"
Trish sat back up and looked John in the eyes. "Tell me you love me and say that you'll stay with me until we both have to go back to work."
Cause it's you and me and all of the people With nothing to do, nothing to prove And it's you and me and all of the people and I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off you
John pulled her close again and kissed her gently on the cheek. "Trish Stratus, I love you and I'll stay with you forever."
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Hope you enjoy this new one, guys! I'm at a friend's house right now have been for a few weeks - summer vacation, but when I get home, my stories will be updated, so look out for them. Thanks for reading!