&--; w i n t e r i s h e r e

[rawrllins]

Words.

Words, Colby had found, were weapons. Sometimes, he sheathed them in velvet, wrapped them in silk and so carelessly threw them to hurt and maim and destroy. It was rare he used them for all that was good and right and wholesome; rarer still he was kind with his words, loving even. Colby ran far, far away from anything tender, anything intimate.

Words.

They were something he needed to use now, let his truth be so sweetly heard. It was a truth he had hinted at back at the venue, a truth he had thought was only believed to be a lie. He had thought wrong, there was no other way Saraya would be sitting on his bed if she thought he lied for even a second.

She was here to talk, to understand just what Colby had started to unravel. Why he did that, he didn’t know. The words slipped free, fell from his lips as if he didn’t know how to lie, to keep everything tucked away behind a smile, behind a facade of cruelness he wore like armor. Maybe it was because he was just tired of it all: tired of the lies and pretending to love a woman he didn’t.

Maybe, in the end, he was just tired.

The words he needed now, wouldn’t come. They were locked away, trapped thick and jumbled in the base of his throat. The one time he needed words and he didn’t have them, didn’t know how to untangle the knot they had become and get them out there. He shouldn’t have taken that pain pill, shouldn’t have let it addle him as it did.

Silent, he stepped closer to her, slowly raised a hand and cradled her face so, so delicately he ached with the tenderness of it all. Gently, he let their foreheads press together and for a long moment, he was content with their closeness, to breathe in the same breath she did. Shifting his head, he let out a soft, gentle sigh, “I’m in love with you.”

Sober and clear headed, those words never would have left him. Colby would have ran from the truth he let slip free, what he had started to let out back at the venue. There was no denying his truth, no denying what he had tried to run away from for years upon years now. It was out there and it felt good, felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“I’m in love with you.” He repeated more sure and firm. Gently, he tipped her chin back and kissed her.

[rawrllins]

Alone.

Alone in his hotel room, Colby let his gear bag drop heavily at the foot of the bed.

Alone, he finally let his shoulders slump, finally let the pain wash over him, steal his breath away. It was always easy to pretend he was okay, always easy to laugh off his hurt when he was around people he didn’t want to let his walls crumble around. They didn’t know his tells, didn’t know where to look.

Those that did weren’t there to see through his smiling facade, weren’t there to make him crack and crumble and bare to them the pain that lurked behind his smile. 

Colby was alone in his hotel room, would keep being alone. He knew Saraya wasn’t going to join him, that once again that blooming thing had been smothered out before it could fully blossom into something beautiful and all his. Perhaps, that was simply how every hand of cards life dealt him would be: deceivingly perfect until the final card landed on the table and what should have been a winning hand, wasn’t.

Safe in the knowledge that he’d be alone, that no one would come knocking on his door, Colby caved, dug out the bottle of prescription pain medication. It was rare he took one, rare that he needed one. The last time he had taken one was the night he took all the chair shots from Brock, when he had been in so much pain all he had wanted was someone to hold him, to run their fingers through his hair and take it all away.

He hadn’t had that an so, he had no choice but to pop one. He hated it, hated how out of it they made him, hated how foggy he felt the following day.

Popping the pill, it wasn’t long before it began to kick in and the ache of his back dulled, wasn’t long until he felt like and air headed. Just as it kicked in, there was a knock on the door and it took him a moment too long to get up, to unlock the door.

Saraya.

She was there and Colby blinked, slow and confused, not understanding why she was there in the door way of his room.

“I swear there’s nothing.” He answered, the words slow and careful, as if he spoke too face he would trip over them, slur them together. Shifting, he stepped aside, held the door open. “Come in, can talk more inside, yeah?”

[rawrllins]

More often than not, when it came to matters of the heart, Colby wasn’t the wisest of men. He tended to run away from love, from commitment, from forever and ever. He threw every good thing that ever came his way, away, left it to burn and rot and decay until all that was left was emptiness; a loneliness that came to him in the dead of night when his bed was too big, too empty.

As foolish as he was, he saw the choice that lay before him, saw it even as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch like an affection starved puppy.

He could lie through his teeth, chase her away, spare her the heart ache that he knew all too well would come if he let her in, opened himself up like he wanted to. Colby was a lot of things: a backstabber, a traitor but he wasn’t going to offer her up as a lamb to the slaughter.

“Alright.” It was soft, a whisper and he stepped closer to her, dusted a soft, fleeting kiss across her brow. “Pretty hard to believe otherwise huh?” He knew what was out there, what had been faked, what had been set up, knew all too well how it looked to those not in the loop. “Should just ask her yourself but,” he rolled his shoulder, offered a faint smile. “Up to you where it goes baby girl. My door is always opened.”

He stepped back then, backtracked the way he came. “Just... it wasn’t a lie you know? When I said I think of you when I need to look like I really am in love with Becky.”

In the end, Colby knew his own heart, knew where it had always lay.

At first he had thought it was in a boy with a dimple smile and wild eyes, then it was in a woman so sweet and sure and faithful, it had broke his heart when she let him go, gave him back the ring he had placed upon her finger because she knew, knew it all too well she couldn’t be his forever when his forever would always be wrestling. It was a piece of kindness he hadn’t wanted and yet, she had given.

Meeting Saraya during those chaotic few years where everything was too much and not enough at the same time, it showed him where his heart truly laid and like the coward he was and would always be, he ran from it.

Now, this was the bed he made for himself.

[mewssings]

why don’t i say it, then? i  want  you  ALL  THE  TIME.

[champseths]

[rawrllins]

Confusion settled over Colby then, thick and so, so clear to see.

He didn’t understand, was still as thrown as he was when he found her in this random hallway, couldn’t wrap his mind around why she was bringing up a girlfriend that hadn’t existed in a long, long time. He opened his mouth then, ready to ask just what she was talking about, what girlfriend she thought he had.

His mouth shut just as quick as it opened.

Becky.

It dawned on him then that she was talking about Becky; about a woman that had been forced into a story line that went beyond the walls of a venue, went beyond the tv screens and the world of WWE. They were pushing it to be real, had played it as something that had been well before mania. The Colby of old would have smiled so sweet and cruel and used that as a weapon, would have burned down what had been rebuilding itself between them over the past week and walked away.

He wasn’t that man anymore. He was so, so tired of running.

Sucking in a sharp breath, he ran his hands over his face, reached for her as she began to walk away, caught her wrist in such a gentle hold she could break it without even trying. Colby had always been so, so gentle with her, treating her as if she’d break into a thousand tiny little pieces if he held too hard, gripped too tight. “Remember how I had this bad habit of just tossing all the scripts I was given in my wrestling bag, letting them pile up and up until you got fed up with it and throw them all away? I still do it.”

Softly he shook his head, laughed soft and bitter. “It’s all a story line, Becky and I. It’d not real baby girl and I hate it. I hate having to look at Becky and pretend she’s you. Thought you knew, pretty sure it’s common knowledge backstage here that it’s all a story line they’re pushing for views. Don’t think it’s working much for them, honestly. Got all the scripts still if you don’t believe me.”

Lying, it was something Colby had never done to her, to those rare few people he loved. He might draw away, might go out of his way to hurt those he loved, to save them, protect them from himself, but he was always, always honest.

“I’m so tired,” He whispered, for her ears alone. “So tired of this story line, of pretending that we’ve only ever just been friends. So tired of trying to run away from it all.” The truth was there, spoken in his whisper, in the way he so tenderly held her there. Once upon a time they had been friends, had toed the line of being more and now, once again, they were back in those shoes: friends toeing the line of being more.

They were never meant after all, to just be friends.

[rawrllins]

Wrong.

Something was wrong.

It was written across Saraya’s stoic face, in the cold frost of her words; words meant to maim and hurt, disguised as something sweet, as something kind. Colby knew when someone was only faking their kindness, their words of praise and for the first time since they knew each other, Saraya was faking hers.

He hadn’t known how much that was going to hurt until the words were spoken, thrown at him like velvet sheathed daggers.

Slow, so, so slow, the smile slipped from his face, morphed into a gentle frown. What, he wondered, happened in the span of his match that lead to this? This wasn’t the Saraya he had left behind twenty minutes ago. No, the woman he had left behind had smiled, had cheered him on and it had felt good and right and settled something that had long since shaken lose.

Saraya made things right, completed a part of him that Colby had tried to deny for years; he was so tired of running away from it.

“Raya,” He began, soft and concerned. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing else in the moment mattered: not her emotionless concern, her false praise. Something was wrong and Colby couldn’t understand just what it was, what had changed in twenty minutes worth of time to lead to this. Lead to the woman he cherished pulling away from him.

Colby after all, was the one that ran and hide and burned it all down to ash and ruin around him, not Saraya. Never sweet, loyal Saraya.

“Come on,” He forced a smile, tried to lighten whatever the issue was. “It wasn’t that bad of a match, was it?”

Even Colby knew it was awful, that it had been a waste of time, that what happened in the match wasn’t something he ever wanted to happen to him. In the end, it was simply the price he was going to have to pay, for supporting the one brother that was wise enough to leave.

[rawrllins]

                                                                       @wickedlilglampire

STUPID.

It was so, so STUPID.

The second the pictures were taken and media was done, he parted from Becky as if b u r n t. It had become the norm to f e e l uncomfortable pretending to love someone he didn’t, to be committed to someone he wasn’t; felt UNEASY about pretending it was something real and more than a story line. Hugging Becky, looking at her as if she was his sun and stars and all the galaxies felt more than w r o n g, made him feel SICK and awkward; so much so it had drowned out the pain in his back, the throb that echoed every beat of his heart.

It shouldn’t have been Becky.

He never should have let them force him into this fake relationship.

Changed in sweats and some old band tee shirt, feeling wrong and unbalanced, Colby let his feet guide him through the hallways, didn’t really know where he was heading until he stopped and asked one of the make-up girls if she had seen Saraya. Saraya would make it right, would settle what had shaken lose and part of him hated that.

Hated that he was going to Saraya for comfort, to feel level in his own skin. The past week together had brought back things he had thought died long ago. Foolish of him really to even think that; she had always always been his even when he tried to deny it, run from it, rip it out root and stem and leave behind a gaping wound to rot and fester and never heal over. Saraya was always the one he wanted, was the only woman he had ripped whatever was left of his heart out for and gave it to her, even if she didn’t realize she held it.

It still held true even now, years later.

Colby might not be the smartest of men when it came to the ways of the heart yet, he knew. He knew as well as he knew his way around the ring, if he hadn’t been as flighty as he was, it would always be Saraya for him.

Taking the advice of the make-up girl, his feet took him to Saraya, found her and he smiled soft and easy. “Hey.”

[wweincorrectquotes]

Brock: Tomorrow is garbage day

Seth: Wow, I can't believe they have a whole day dedicated to you :D

[rawrllins]

Small was something Colby had never felt.

In the indie scene, it hadn’t mattered that he wasn’t the biggest of men, wasn’t the most bulky, he carried himself with an air that was larger that life, that was bigger than any man around him could ever dare hope to be. Then, he met Joe; gentle, kind Joe that wasn’t all that much taller than him and yet, Joe made Colby feel SMALL.

Locked in the hotel room, Joe’s grip on his chin firm and gentle and an anchor to the chaos that twisted and churned in the depths of Colby’s chest, he felt small. Colby wasn’t sure how to ever put into words why he felt that way, why it was Joe and Joe alone that made him feel small, cherished and ashamed of what he had done all at once. Maybe, it was simply because it was JOE. 

Kind, gentle Joe that was a piece of home Colby hadn’t expected to find out on the road, to welcome so wholly into his life as he did.

Words escaped him, were caught around the lump in his throat. He hadn’t wanted things to go down like they did, had wanted to give his boys the heads up they deserved and yet, there had been no time. He never had a second to stop, to talk to them and now, here they were and Colby felt too open, too raw and exposed.

Part of him wanted to run, to tuck his tail further between his legs and hide away, to rip apart what he had already broke. It was, after all, what he was good at in the end. As he was nudged towards the bed and he saw Jon there, all thoughts of running away left him and the only thing that was left was hurt. So, so much hurt and guilt.

Joe was a piece of home, a comfort that had slotted so neatly into place Colby hadn’t known it was missing until Joe had filled the hole.

Jon though.

Jon was his soul mate, the other half of him Colby had felt was missing and yet, hadn’t been able to put a name to what was missing until they butted head in FCW. It was to Jon he crawled onto the bed for, it was for Jon he didn’t run away and make things worse than they were and it was for Jon that he broke further, bared the churning chaos that lurked within as he cradled Jon’s face in his hands and let their foreheads press together.

“I’m so, so sorry.” It was soft, a mere whisper and yet, Colby felt as if he had shouted it for all the world to hear. There were after all, few things Colby never said and saying sorry? It was one of those things. Saying sorry after all, couldn’t fix things, couldn’t make it better so, why bother saying it all at? For Jon, for Joe, for the rare few people in his life that he loved, that he couldn’t stand to hurt? He would say it for them and for them alone.

Choking on something that might have been a sob or a laugh or something Colby refused to admit was nothing but a sound of hurt and loss and guilt, he kissed Jon, slotted their mouths together as if Jon was his lover, as if he was kissing someone that meant the world to him.

At the end of the day, Jon did.

At the end of the day, Joe did.

Colby had ripped out his own heart long ago and his boys were all he had, were all he would allow himself to have.

Burn it down, never look back.

Even if it hurt, even if it ached, the pain would fade and the heart he had lost would scar over and it would be okay. It would be okay and things would be better for the heart he had cast aside. It was for the best after all; Colby always ruined what he loved the most.

[rawrllins]

Sleep had never been Colby’s best friend.

Out of necessity, he had become a light sleeper, waking at the slightest of sounds, being able to function on only three hours of sleep; being able to get up and go, go, go even when his body protested it. It had become a habit of his, to never stop, to keep himself busy. If he wasn’t busy, if he stopped, he would crash and Colby, in his line of work, couldn’t afford to crash.

It was rare he slept deep, that he slept in past the ever present alarm he set every morning without fail.

Once upon a time, when he used to share a bed with his boys, it was Joe that would silence his alarm, that would make sure he slept in past his norm and it was Jon’s arm around him that kept him anchored, kept him in a bed that was too warm to leave. It was after all, only in the arms of another person, in the arms of someone he trusted and loved that he slept his deepest.

Sleeping alone always lead to tossing and turning and hardly any sleep at all for Colby.

In Saraya’s bed, Colby had fallen asleep, hadn’t thought to set his alarm before he fell asleep during whatever it was that had been put on tv. He slept deep in her bed, slept in well past when he should have been up and it was only when she all but shrieked his name, and something smacked him in the head that he work up with a jerk. His back protested the sudden movement and he hissed even as he was hit again and he rolled, fell out of the bed with a thud.

It hurt, rattled him and stunned, he sat there, blankets tangled around his feet lost and confused and not awake enough to understand what was going on. Then, Lobster was there, a ball of warm fur, knocking into his chest, pushing him flat onto his back and excited kisses were being showered to his face. It was then Colby reacted, slow and halfhearted, pushing as Lobster’s face with a soft, tired laugh, trying to get him to stop.

“Alright, alright,” The more he pushed at Lobster’s face, the more eager the dog became, wiggled and squirmed and kissed away at Colby’s hands, arms and the parts of his face that Lobster to get to. “I’m up, I’m up baby boy, I’m  up!”

[mewssings]

believe me, DARLING           the stars were made for                                          FALLING

[stellarollins]

Flufftastic

[rawrllins]

Somethings were just like riding a bike: it didn’t matter how long it had been since a bike was ridden, the skill was never forgotten. Standing in Saraya’s kitchen, taking the offered bottle of water, it was like riding a bike.

Things that Colby had thought he had long buried and broke were coming back.

Like the way she liked her bagels and just like back then, the way he wrinkled his nose was just the same. “That is disgusting and I will always judge you for that. There’s such a thing as too much cream cheese.”

Colby knew too, he should pass up her offer, just take the blankets and spar pillows and call it a night yet, even as he slipped his hat off and set it on the counter, he wasn’t going to do what he knew he should do. Things were slipping back into place, slotting into gaping holes Colby had thought long filled and healed over. How though, could anything be healed over when the very thing he had ripped out was something that could never heal?

The smile that formed was soft, despite whatever it was that began to unknowingly lurk in the depths of Colby’s chest. “I’d like that,” Then softer, more breath than actual words: “Been a while since we’ve done something like that.” And he knew, knew all too well it was his own fault, his own doing and so, he laughed, smacked his hands on the counter and backed up. “Where’s your bathroom? Gotta get out of these jeans first before I can relax with some tv with you.”

Digging through his suit case for a pair of sweats, he changed into them once he was directed to the bathroom.  When he joined Saraya on her bed, tucked his feet under the blankets, it should have felt as easy as it did, shouldn’t have felt like a piece of home he was missing and yet, it did. It felt like it did so long ago, felt like something he had ran away from before it could bloom into more.

Somethings could only be ran from for so long before it all caught up at the finish line...

The pillow was soft, the bed warm and smelt like Saraya and her voice was a soft rasp that washed over him, lulled him into a sleep he tried for a moment to fight before he gave up, pressed his face into the pillow and between one bark of laughter and the next, he was asleep.

[rawrllins]

She didn’t owe him this.

She didn’t owe him anything and should she had left him alone at the airport, Colby would have found another way, might have even caved and booked another hotel room for the night. Yet, she hadn’t left him, had welcomed him into her home without a second thought.

Something about that sat oddly with him, made something like longing well up in the pit of his chest, brought up echos of memory across his tongue in flavors of buttery popcorn and too sugary sodas shared late into movie nights there were more than just movie nights. Saraya had been his person once upon a time, had curled herself deeper than Colby had expected her too and he ruined that.

In the backseat of her car, wearing a smile and promising to get breakfast in the morning, Colby missed that.

There was a lot he was missing more and more often lately when it came to Saraya..

Setting his bags down by the couch, he followed her into the kitchen. “I’ll just crash on the couch, better than being cramped in those damn chairs at the air port.” His back wouldn’t forgive him come morning but, a nice stretch and hot shower would fix the ache and ever present morning stiffness right up. Slumping against the counter, he shook his head at her offer. “No thank you but, you already knew that.”

Colby didn’t drink.

The lack of control was something he wasn’t found of it. More often than not, he would sip enough to be polite at social gatherings and the rest was given to Joe or Jon and once, upon a long time ago, it was Saraya. There was so much of her that had been weaved into his life and it was only now he was realizing what he had cut out.

and maybe in the end, he had ALWAYS known and just REFUSED to see it.

"I’m fine though sweetface,” He smiled, part of him all too ready to crash for the night. It had been a long, long weekend going into an even longer week. The life of a champion was all go and no sleep, something Colby was far, far too used to doing; international traveling always, without fail, left him more tired than normal. “Do need to know what kind of bagels you want in the morning, still got that annoying habit of mine of getting up before the sun.”

[rawrllins]

The WEIGHT that lifted off of Colby’s shoulder had him laughing, slumping in his seat. Just when he thought luck was AGAINST him, when he was going to have no choice but to spend the n i g h t cramped in the air port, Saraya came through for him.

She ALWAYS came through for him..

For a moment, his heart grew HEAVY and something thick and chocking formed in the base of his throat. Colby tossed that away, didn’t let himself THINK over something he had thrown away, something he didn’t think he’d e v e r let himself have. He had dealt enough hurt to Saraya, he didn’t need to deal anymore.

“Yeah,” He answered soft and breathless. “Yeah I’m at LAX, give me ten I’ll meet you out there. You,” He added, couldn’t help the way a bit of FONDNESS crept into his voice. “Are a life saver.”

Gathering his bags, he stood, tossed one over his shoulder and weaved his way through the people in the air port. True to his word, within ten minutes he was standing outside in the LA weather, squinting at the line of cars waiting in the pick up area. 

“Okay, flag me down, which car are you?” Finally spotting Saraya’s car, Colby tossed his bags in the popped trunk, slammed it closed and settled heavily into the backseat next to her. “Seriously, thank you so much for this.

[rawrllins]

                                                         @wickedlilglampire                                         

                                          GO.

                            Don’t s t o p.

               One foot forward; left foot right.

Colby didn’t know how to STOP, to unwind and take a second to breathe. Even if he did, even if he know how to stop and relax and take a moment to just be, he doubted he EVER would. If he stopped, it would all hit him and he would crash HARD and he simply didn’t have time to crash.

From Raw in San Jose to LA, Colby didn’t sleep much. By the time he checked into the hotel, it was time to get up again and film for Deadboys and by the time he had got back, showered and checked out of the hotel, stopped for coffee and food, it was time to fly out to where, even he wasn’t sure. He HOPPED it was home, that he could CRASH in his own bed for a few hours before life drew him way.

L u c k wasn’t on Colby’s side: his flight was DELAYED.

Annoying as it was, it was part of the job and so he settled in, kicked back in a too stiff chair and waited. And waited. And WAITED. A full hour went by before it was announced his flight was canceled and the next available flight out wouldn’t be until sometime tomorrow or the next day.

He was stuck in LA with nowhere to go.

Tired and DESPERATE, he didn’t think as he flicked through his contacts and found Saraya’s, giving her a call. He could have called anyone and yet, it was SARAYA he called, was Saraya he trusted enough to see him at his lowest. “Hey can I crash at your place for the night?” He asked once the line clicked on. “My flight got canceled.”