Sylan fell asleep on the bus and Sheamus chuckled. She looked peaceful, but a frown marred her pretty features. He reached over and brushed a piece of hair from her face, smoothing a thumb over the wrinkle between her eyebrows.
Sylan blinked, yawning.
"We there?"
"Not yet, lass. Why don't yeh go back ta sleep?"
She shook her head and rummaged through her jacket, pulling out a granola bar.
"I'm starving. Yeh want half?"
"Nah. It's yours."
"Take it. I highly doubt ye'd enjoy going hungry."
Sheamus looked at her.
"What part o' Ireland are yeh from, lass?"
"Belwicket."
"Ah. Interesting."
"Lemme guess, you're from Dublin, huh?"
"Yeah."
Sylan grinned.
"Nice. What do yeh do for a living?"
"I'm a foighter. A wrestler actually. Yeh ever heard of the WWE?"
Sylan's eyes widened.
"I love the WWE! You work there?"
"Yeah. I'm Sheamus. Yeh've seen some o' my matches?"
She nodded.
"I like the way yeh foight. Yeh got real talent, Sheamus."
He blushed slightly and she grinned.
"At least yer gettin some color, Sheashea."
"Sheashea?"
"Nickname, luv. Call me Sylan, or Syl. I don't care."
"Sylan. Interesting."
"Thanks. So this is how yeh get around?"
"Yep."
"Cool. Maybe I'll come with you to WWE."
Sheamus grinned.