Thought i'd get this off my chest, so there's been so much drama and contreversy this week, obviously with punk leaving and the ending of Royal Rumble, it's all been so hectic and you know, it's been a nightmare on social networking sites, i really can't get over some of the fans and tbh it really doesn't surprise me if Punk has actually left, an unpopular opinion, but it's an opinion, I wish him all the best. Raw these past few months have not been up to standard and it's not me being a smark, it's the truth, WWE need to get there shit together and start listening to there fans, i'll leave it there
Anyway, we're on Chapter 40! it's been a while but I hope this doesn't disappoint, i'm only just managing to squeeze in time, college is hard work :(
Enough about me, enjoy lovelies!
Phoebe fell asleep alone on Phil's bus bed, feeling relaxed seeing as it was her day off. It was fairly common that he had gone out early for a run at the crack of dawn whenever a pay-per-view was nearing up, in this case Raw 1,000. She still felt a slight chill and decided on bundling herself up in one of Phil's thick fleece sheets and let myself drift into oblivion. She knew Phil wouldn't be back for another hour.
Jealous cowards try to control
Rise above
We're gonna rise above
They distort what we say
Rise above
"Phil, for fucks sake turn It off!"
Phoebe flipped over to see him still sound asleep while the heavy punk track continued to play, she had attempted to reach over and turn it off herself however Phil's huge frame had become an obstacle.
We're gonna rise above
Try and stop what we do
Rise above
When they can't do it themselves
We are tired of your abuse
Try to stop us it's no use
"Phil!"
Phoebe groaned, burying her head deep into a pillow, 5 minutes later and Phoebe just about managed to fall asleep until the track began to play again.
"I swear to Lucifer…"
Phoebe began to kick Phil, hoping that it would at least get his eyes open, the fact that he wasn't responding got Phoebe even angrier until eventually Kofi burst into Phil's room, thankfully turning the alarm off for him.
"Kofi, I love you."
"Kofi, I love you," Phil mimicked.
Phoebe decided that this was the last straw, throwing off her covers she pulled the rest of the duvet off of Phil and motioned Kofi to grab both his legs, Phoebe managed an arm and after a small struggle the pair managed to lift him off the bed. This certainly grabbed Phil's attention and in turn he was wide awake, attempting to struggle out of their grasp.
"Let me go! What are you doing!" Phil growled while wriggling.
"You asked for it, son!" Kofi snapped back.
Eventually the two stopped, Phoebe pulled back the shower curtain, giving Phil an evil smirk before finally tossing him into the shower, turning the shower onto the coldest temperature. The pair roared in laughter as they watched Phil's plain shirt and basketball shorts get soaked in ice cold water, his hair stuck to his forehead in a sloppy, wet mess. He began flapping around like a fish out of water, adjusting to the harsh temperature until he eventually gave up, letting the water painfully cascade over him.
"Godamnit. Phoebe! I thought you were on my side!"
"Revenge!"
"What the fuck? What for?"
"Being an asshole in the morning!"
"Being an asshole all the time!" Kofi added.
"One day guys, you fucking watch I'm gonna dunk you in something worse than cold shower water, you just fucking wait. Cold water, is that the best you got?" The Chicagoan cackled, struggling to remove the t-shirt that was stuck to him.
"You know what they say about empty threats Phil?"
"What Kofi? Fucking what?"
"Nothing, they're empty."
"Fuck you!"
The two continued to howl, clutching their sides, occasionally shutting the shower curtain when Phil tried escaping the cubicle – on the third attempt he somehow managed to slip in the process which caused Phoebe to cry with laughter.
"Aw look, Kofi he's pouting."
"I can't … breathe!"
"This is what the football team used to do to me in high school," Phil sighed glumly, clutching his chest dramatically.
Phoebe's heart swelled, feeling obvious guilt until she turned to look at Kofi who narrowed his eyes," Cut the bullshit, Phil. That's not going to work."
"It happened!"
"Sure, it 'happened.'" Kofi motioned air quotes, Phoebe turned to look at Phil who nodded, mouthing 'it happened.'
"BULLSHIT!" Phoebe yelled, "You wouldn't let those sweaty Neanderthals beat you up."
"She has a point Phillipe."
"I have a point Phillope."
"Will one of you, just help me, please!"
Kofi held his hands up in mock defeat, "This ones on you girl, good luck!" He stalked off into the main area leaving Phil and Phoebe alone, the sound of the water pummeling Phil's body echoed throughout the bus. Phoebe grinned in victory and made her way back towards the shower, she crouched down so that she was eye level with Phil.
Still smiling, she extended her hand forward, "I'm sorry."
He turned to look at her, scowling viciously at her, "You evil bitch."
"You ain't seen nothing yet," Phoebe smirked, still crouched with her arm outstretched.
Sighing, Phil willingly took it his hand strongly taking hold of hers, he didn't have the energy to argue with he. Slowly getting up Phoebe felt a force tugging her towards him, her eyes widened in terror as she realised what was happening, toppling forwards into a soaking Phil. She began screaming at how cold the water actually was, her heart pace quickened as her own nightwear stuck to her body, her hair grew wetter and denser and Phil continued chuckling in her ear.
"G-G-uess I d-d-deserved th-th-th-hat one huh?" Phoebe shivered under the extreme temperature.
Phil took hold of Phoebe's cheek, giving her a searing kiss on her lips "Daaaaamn straight."
At around 9 Phoebe woke up to the bitter cold in the room, realising that Phil must've returned back from him run - she turned round to face a sleeping Phil, snuggled into his chest. His arms instinctively wrapped around Phoebe, the stench still reeked off him and she noticed that he hadn't changed out of his sweaty, running outfit. Nonetheless, his hugs were still divine, and I found myself lulling off in no time.
He was sprawled on the bed, and Phoebe had wrapped her arm and leg around him in my sleep, his hair was a disheveled mess, and his lips were parted slightly. Phoebe smiled at the sight and planted a kiss on his forehead, letting him sleep and got herself ready. Stepping into the shower, she heard a shuffling noise coming from outside.
"Good morning," Phoebe yelled over the water, she was greeted with a cough and a weak, "morning."
"How'd you fall asleep last night?" he smiled, snaking his arms around my waist and pulling me towards him, she laid a hand on his chest, and his lips rested on my cheek.
"It was ok, although I did miss you playing with my hair," Phoebe chuckled and lifted her hand to touch his face, he planted a sweet kiss on her lips and smiled.
"What should we do today?" Phoebe asked.
"Nothing," he replied, bitterly.
"What? Why not?" Phoebe sighed, thinking that he would be out doing an appearance or a signing of some sort.
"Because," Phoebe waited for what Punk was referring to until she could hear heavy rain plummeting down onto the roof of the bus.
"Don't tell me you went out for a run in the rain?"
Phoebe made her way out into the main area of the bus, heavy rain landed on the glass pane windows with a pat. Heavier than any rain she had seen before, her eyes widened and she walked over to the window with a smile. The scene outside was beautiful. Although it was only 10:00, the sky outside was dark and grey, emphasising the nature behind all the tour buses. Barely anyone had come out of there buses and no one had was outside making their way towards the arena, either everyone was sleeping in today or Phil and Phoebe had been left alone.
"Actually, I have an idea," Phoebe heard him say behind her. She turned to face him. He had a slight smirk on his face and Phoebe could only wish to know why for.
"I'm kind of afraid as to what that is," Phoebe chuckled.
"Get dressed. Comfortably."
"Wait, like casually?"
"No, like in pyjamas," he replied, stepping towards me and moving a piece of damp hair out of Phoebe's face. He stepped into the closet and beckoned her to come closer.
She walked in and shut the door behind them.
"Jesus, you have a lot of clothes," he said, rummaging through her suitcase. She turned to grab one of her other, smaller suitcases and tossed it next to the one Phil was rummaging through.
"Hun," Phoebe laughed. His head jerked up and he moved towards the new suitcase. She pointed to the organized mess of pyjama bottoms. Sweats, cotton, and those silky ones that she bought "just in case" but never wore them anyway. Phoebe's hand reached out for the military patterned ones, but his hand grabbed her wrist.
"What," Phoebe retorted, looking at him.
"I'm dressing you," he smiled, like a 5 year old.
"Phil, oh my god," she half-whispered. He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows.
"Fine," Phoebe said, stepping back and folding her arms.
He winked at her before continuing to rummage in her suitcase, Phoebe saw his eyes twinkle as he lifted a pair of red silk pyjama bottoms. She had gotten them purely because she loved the way they felt on her skin, she loved them, they were comfortable and soft, but Phoebe could never wear them, there was never a right time to wear something to regal and majestic. Turning to her side, she grabbed a pair of knickers, rushing slightly as she slid into them under her bath towel.
"Wait, aw Phoebe!" he sighed, as he saw her reaching to find a suitable bra.
"What?"
"I wanted to do that part."
"I figured, look maybe this isn't such a good idea" Phoebe shuffled away, attempting to grab hold of the red silk bottoms out of Phil's hand.
He stepped towards her, eyebrow raised at her sudden reluctance, holding a black camisole in one hand and the pyjamas in the other, out of Phoebe's reach.
"What's going on?"
"Nothing."
Phil stepped forward to grab hold of Phoebe's waist, she slapped his hand away, stumbling backwards.
"You've gone shy, you're not letting me touch you, are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"You're lying."
"I'm not lying."
"You're rubbing your nose, you're lying."
"Look, what is the big deal I just want to get changed in piece without you watching me, can't you just respect that?" Phoebe's voice was slightly raised but was quivering in fear. How had this escalated to this?
"Don't move," he instructed.
He lifted the shirt she was currently wearing up and over her head, the sharp intake of breath confirmed what Phil had seen, he slipped the cami off of her, letting it lay on her shoulders like a scarf. Her head hung low, embarrassment and shame etched over her face; she stepped backwards out of Phil's embrace and turned her back to him. The room had fallen silent; this was not how she imagined spending her day off. Just today she noticed how much her bruises had faded from the night they had formed, pain had eased and she felt fine – but it didn't stop the fact that they weren't completely gone. It had almost been two weeks since her last encounter with Nick, the last time he had left a damaging imprint into Phoebe's skin.
"Who the hell hurt you?" he demanded, moving over, tugging Phoebe's arms away from her chest so he could see the extent of the fading bruises. When was the last time he saw her naked? It had been a while, where had they come from? He frantically contemplated on whether they had come from April, but he was there when she attacked Phoebe – those bruises did not come from her hands. She felt her cheeks start to heat up as she straightened up and pushed Phil's forceful stance away from her. "I'm serious? Who hurt you? I'll kill that son of a – "
"Phil, it's nothing, I – "
"Bull fucking shit, those bruises are NOT nothing. Your chest is blotched, and your neck looks like it went ten rounds with fucking Mike Tyson or some shit like that," he snapped, gripping her hand tightly. "Don't you dare tell me that April did this, I promised myself that I was never going to let anything or anyone hurt you, I can't live with myself after the way I treated you and somehow you have found it in in your heart to forgive me for hurting you. You're mine, Phoebe, you can trust me, if anyone ever hurt you, you'd tell me, right?" There was conflict in his eyes, a combination of confusion, anger, and sadness.
She took a slow breath before turning her hand in his, squeezing it firmly, "I promise, it's not what it looks like," she began giving him a faint smile. "I'll tell you what happened if you promise not to freak out."
"That depends, and I want the fucking truth Phoebe."
Taking his hand in hers, she led him back onto the bed and sat him down on the couch, she kept his hand tight in hers as she began to fathom an explanation that wouldn't cause Phil to freak and kill a man. He waited patiently, not knowing what to expect.
"On the night, I broke up with Nick – "
And suddenly everything made sense, how did he not guess, Nick – he was almost to shocked for words, his voice barely audible.
"Don't tell me."
"He, he didn't know what he was doing, he wasn't aware of how much he was hurting me, I don't think he realised – "
Phil shot up from the bed, fists clenched tightly by his side ready to fight in combat mode, "You're defending him!? You're actually defending him?! You cannot be serious! Look at that bruise on your neck, it actually looks like Big Show punched you straight. I can't fucking believe this." Phoebe had gotten the impression that he was no longer talking to her, but now to himself. His teeth gritted, and grinned together incessantly, the rage that engulfed him inside had taken over him. Whenever he thought he was coming back o sanity he took one quick look at Phoebe and the bruises that marked her flawless, milky skin, he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until Nick was dealt with, personally by him.
"He didn't punch me, or hit me on purpose, he sort of just grabbed me and I think he lost control – "
"It doesn't matter what happened, he shouldn't have put a finger on you, full stop. He hurt you Phoebe, he needs to be taught a fucking lesson."
"Phil, please, calm down, please!"
"Why are you defending him?"
"I'm not defending him, Phil. I'm saying that it wasn't intentional, he didn't mean it."
"So he doesn't know about those bruises?"
Phoebe didn't want Phil to think that she was being abused, from his heaving chest and his face turning increasingly red, she especially didn't want him to go ballistic.
He scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands before looking at her again. "Tell me exactly what he did to you. I want to know every detail."
There was a long pause as the thought about that night, about how she had met with him, in fear and trepidation knowing she was about to break his heart, the first time he had said those 3 words that had made it all the more harder.
"You know what happened, I told you."
"Nick, we can't do this, this has to end, us, you and me, Nick and Phoebe."
Phil gritted his teeth in seething anger, "Tell – me - what – he – did."
She felt her whole body swivel back round, Nick took hold of her arms, shaking her like a ragdoll.
"Answer me!"
"Nick, please."
"When did this happen? How many times did you fuck him?"
His grip tightened and Phoebe felt fresh tears replacing new ones, she felt Nick's fingers digging into her skin.
"Nick, stop please you're hurting me."
"Too late for that sweetheart, because you already broke my fucking heart. You, filthy, bitch." His words stung and she couldn't stop the tears from falling.
"I trusted you and I loved you, I thought you were the one."
His fist threatened to knock her out, instead he connected it to the wall and winced in pain.
Phoebe continued to stammer in silence, she tried to force back tears as she supressed the memory, but it was too late. A tear rolled down her face, she quickly swiped a hand over her face to avoid Phil seeing her cry. He saw her.
He watched her shudder in fear, anxiety and then finally sadness, this fuelled his current emotion as he knew what to do.
His voice shook with rage, "Stay here, don't move, I'll be right back."
"Phil, wait!"
"You can't, " she whispered faintly, gripping onto his arms in attempts to calm him down.
"No baby, he can't. He hurt you and he's not getting away with it that easily."
"Contrary to popular belief, violence isn't always the answer."
Phil offered a small smile, "Exactly. I have to do this, Phoebe. He hurt my girl."
He was already out the door before Phoebe had a chance to stop him, at the same time she went to grab the door handle Phoebe, as she heard the door lock aggressively. He had fucking locked her in. Phoebe had attempted to kick the door in, going harder at it each time – after the 10th attempt she growled in frustration, punching the door hoping by some miracle it would open. In her last attempt, she failed miserably, sinking down to the floor, she hugged her knees and used them as a prop for her chin. A shaky breath escaped her lips, she knew where Phil was going, she knew what he had gone to do. Somewhere deep inside of her, knocking at the back of her mind she felt a sense of relief and security, however the thought of what Phil was going to do to Nick turned her stomach. When he came back, she would give Phil a well-deserved bollocking.
He didn't want to lock the door, there wasn't really much of a choice. Phoebe would stop him from giving Nick what he truly deserved and knowing he would have to pay for it later On his way to the arena, Phil formulated his plan to confront Nick, he came to a conclusion that there really wasn't going to be much of a plan, he just knew he wouldn't be satisfied until something was broken. He had an inkling as to where he would be, the man never ate so he wasn't going to be in catering, he first hunch was that he was probably at the gym. His hands opened and closed into fists as his walking pace increased with speed, he wasn't going to get this over and done with, he was going to hurt him.