Chapter Text
After years of waiting, I finally found an opportunity to see a match in-person; and I get to be up front. Rhea’s in this one. Her entrance? Spectacular as always.
I have my phone out to record, as is practically everyone else; but I’ve been noticing Rhea shifting a glance over to my camera every so often.
And all the while, she wins the match and retains her championship. She slides out under the ropes and approaches me. My heart-rate fucking begs to jump out of my chest.
She leans with crossed arms onto the barricade directly in front of me. I nervously lean back, physically stuck staring into her gorgeous platinum blue eyes that make me want to fold just being under their supervision.
Her gaze on me is playful, wanting to taunt and tease me. A light smirk tugs on her matte black lips and she starts to walk away.
Mostly involuntarily, I grab ahold of one of her wrists to halt her departure, but I freeze up under her gaze. It pins me, and I’m pressured to speak. But I don’t. She does.
“You want me to stay?” Her brows furrow like a begging dog, and I scream internally. I can only nod under the physical pressure to collapse and grovel like she’s a goddess. “Cute.” Her accent comes out and slaps my face even redder.
In mere moments, we’re both leaning into the barricade. I look over at the wrestlers’ entrance, thinking; and she catches on pretty damn quickly. She leans closer so that the tip of her nose slightly grazes mine.
It catches me off guard to the point of barely falling backward, and I find her supporting my lower back with both arms before I fully fall. Enveloped in her tatted arms, my breaths are so slow they’re barely there.
“Careful next time,” she says to me, accent overwhelming my ears with bliss. A few comfortable moments later and her arms are back on the barricade.
I take another look at the entrance, and next thing I know she lets out a sigh and throws me over her shoulder to carry me right to where I was picturing; but I’m taken to her dressing room. She leaves me there for a good hour or so before she returns.
I sit against a wall of the room, legs bent, head buried in my arms atop my knees. More than an hour passes and I notice once the door violently opens. Is she pissed?
She walks in, dark makeup slightly smudged, and some blood from what I assume to be a nosebleed. I look up to find myself pinned to the wall I’m sat against. And she’s knelt. I feel a hitch in my throat; fuck.
Demon In Your Dreams begins to play at the worst time.
“Shit,” Rhea mutters to herself. The commentator speaks and I hear the crowd faintly ‘boo!!’ when she doesn’t appear. “Keep your ass right where it is.” She groans and walks out there.