𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦 ¦ becky & baron.
All things considered, life had picked up much faster than she had anticipated.
Becky had reached her life’s goal and main evented WrestleMania, winning two Women’s Championships in the process and solidifying her spot as the resident force to be reckoned with, regardless of division. Instead of a small abode in Orlando, she resided in a massive, flashy mansion in Tampa, and instead of living alone, she lived with a man that she loved and his newborn daughter who she endlessly doted over, along with several other “children” of various species. If she were to craft imagery of a dream life from scratch, this would have been it. But life had a funny way of spinning on its head when you’re right where you wanted to be.
She and Baron weren’t technically together, a decision made by him after a series of damning incidents on both of their parts. Maybe things could have been mended in the moment if they had taken the time to listen to each other’s feelings, something Roman and Paige had been all to clear in relaying; instead, accusations of dishonesty and infidelity ran rampant, and they soon found themselves as rivals, where defeating the other was a means to an end. They had talked plenty since Extreme Rules, having shared words of affirmation, affection, and beds (the latter of which hadn’t completely stopped in the three weeks that had passed), but it felt unspoken between them that things were still too tender to try to resolve so as to not run the risk of shattering the ground they stood on altogether. Words had a history of working against them, so they relied on actions. But if she knew that if they really wanted to get better, they had to talk about it. Openly and vulnerably, neither of which were her strong suits.
She wandered slowly through the house with Brody in her arms, a meek blue French bulldog who was eager to be lavished with affection. She could hear heavy paw prints meaning that Xander couldn’t have been too far, also indicating that Baron couldn’t have been either. Swallowing her pride never came easy. She could already feel a lump forming at the base of her throat, and she couldn’t tell if it was due to nerves, fear, sadness, or a combination of all three. Becky knew that this house, his house, wouldn’t feel like a home to her until they settled things once and for all, and she wanted that more than anything -- truth be told, more than the title she carried over her shoulder, as small as that notion made her feel. When she found him, she leaned against the threshold of the door. “Hey,” she said sheepishly, wondering if her tone was enough to give away her intentions. “Is now a good time?”
@corbineod
