His Heart's Desire
The chilly night breeze whisked through the open doorway as the man stepped into the dark apartment, hurriedly yanking the door closed behind him, locking the cold out tight. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, more than aware of the stench of liquor on his breath. Shrugging out of his jacket, he kicked off his boots and made his way over to the fireplace, warming his freezing body.
From where he stood at the fireplace, he could make out the odd shape in the bedroom across the apartment. Their Four Poster King Size bed stood grandly in the centre of the room, and past the lace that draped so elegantly over it, he was sure he could make out her sleeping figure.
"Don't expect me to wait forever for you to grow up."
Her angry, but pain filled voice, rang in his ears even now, hours and hours after she had actually spoken them to him.
He knew she meant it.
But for reasons he couldn't quite explain, he wasn't sure he cared. All things considered, he knew he should. She was his everything.
She was.
He often wondered when that had changed, and why.
She would do anything for him, and more often than not she did. Whatever he said would go, even when it hurt her, and nine times out of ten, it would. For some reasons he could not quite grasp though, she never tired of it. Her devotion was unquestionable, and she shaped her life at his will time and time again.
That should please him.
Instead it infuriated him. The moments in which she fought to please him were the moments that she displeased him the most.
What had his heart changed so much?
That sleeping beauty in his bed loved him. She dotted on him, supported him, waved her ass on demand and let him do her anyway he pleased. He sighed, his face setting harshly at this. I do her, all right. Whatever fantasy he could conjure, he would subject her to. He'd snap her over that bed and pound at her with no regard for her well being whatsoever nine times out of ten...
And when it was over, she'd crawl into his arms and whisper sweet nothings. Over and over she would tell him she loved him. In return he would tell her...
Nothing.
Because in those moments, he flet nothing.
He was hollow. An empty shell of a man that needed to be fulfilled.
That she could never do.
He wondered sometimes if anyone could.
On the nighs the WWF carried him to cities mile and miles from her, he would head out after the show with his friends at his side, hopping from one bar to the next, picking up one ring rat or another, sometimes two or three in a row... Sometimes two or three at once.
And still he felt nothing.
The only time he really felt alive anymore was when he was in that ring, risking life and limb for a crowd that might never really appreciate him anyway.
He paused mid thought.
Maybe that wasn't the only time anymore.
But he refused to think about it. To think about her, or the way she smiled at him everytime he came near. The way her long hair rest lazily down her back, the way it flicked over her shoulder if she spun around fast enough. The way her eyes danced when she watched him in that ring...
The way she ran into another man's arms and kissed him like he was all she needed in the world. She would run her fingers through his dark hair and look him right in the eye whenever she spoke to him, adoring him...
Without ever questioning him. Without ever bending to his will, despite how much she loved him because that was just it.
She loved him. She just loved him.
The girl in his bed, she loved him. But she was never really going to be the girl he wanted.
The girl he wanted, he wasn't sure he was ever going to have.
He sighed, running a hand through his long, blonde hair. Whever else he felt right now, he was sure of one thing.
He couldn't stay here. Not anymore.
Moving back over to the sofa, he pulled on his jacket and boots again, heading straight for the door. When he opened it, the cold wind swept into the apartment with much more force than it had earlier. It blew papers from the table across the room and rustled every curtain within its reach. He stood there a moment, breathing in the crisp air.
In the bed she stirred, shivering as the breeze crept over her flesh. She pulled the blankets tighter around her as she woke groggily from sleep. Sitting up, she called out, not sure it was even her fiancee standing in the door. "Adam?"
For a long time he stood there, his mind a whirl. Certainty crept in on him and he called back, "Go back to sleep, Alannah."
He stepped out into the night, slamming the door behind him.
And somehow she knew...
He was never going to come back again.
~ The End ~