Post by Sloane Taylor on Jul 31, 2022 16:34:32 GMT -5
I take a deep breath, letting the warm air fill my lungs nearly to bursting and then let it out, a smile growing on my face and my body loosening in relaxation. I can feel the ache in my legs and in my shoulders, my hands still shaking from the precarious grips I had curled my fingers into during my run. Telltale signs, all of the best kind of run, something I hadn’t done in far too long. It had felt amazing. And most importantly, I’d needed it.
While it hadn’t been the most dangerous or the most taxing, the feeling of my feet pounding the pavement, the way my eyes automatically scan for whatever surface I can use to challenge my body… it was almost perfect.
Almost.
Often I tested myself with heights and wide jumps, quick transitions and agility, small things enough to make Seb’s heart stop, but today had been about endurance. Chicago will always be my home course, my natural habitat, but I’d finally stepped out of my comfort zone. It was almost shameful that I’d visited these amazing places in the last couple of years and I would busy myself with the sights and sounds without ever thinking of taking a climb. Perhaps as New York became my new stomping ground it would give me confidence to run no matter where we were.
Oof. Seb wouldn’t like that.
I feel the smile cross my lips as I approach the building of our new home, knowing Seb would be waiting to see how my day had gone. He’d look me up and down in that way he always did, that way that made me blush even now, but this time, it would have an additional edge. He’d look for bruises and scrapes, flesh reddened and sore from an impact, all manner of signs that maybe I wasn’t telling him the whole truth, that maybe the run didn’t go quite so smoothly. He always worries when I run, not that he’d ever stop me. But I know everytime I walk out that door to do what I do, he feels his pulse quicken. He won’t settle until the door opens once more, and I walk back in. Honestly, it’s amazing to have someone care for me so deeply.
Part of me feels like it’s selfish to keep doing this.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce, the man who should never have been mine, not when you look at the differences between us, but it was our differences that brought us so close. Our background, our history, all so very different, brought together by this business. I’ll always be thankful for that.
I know Seb thinks that the reason I come back every time I get hurt is because I want to honor my dad. And while that’s true, I have a new reason. I owe wrestling for bringing Seb to me and me to him, because without it, I can’t imagine how we would have ever met.
As I step into the elevator, I feel that same excitement I’d had every day since we’d arrived. New beginnings. Our brand new start. He’d never admit it, but our apartment had never quite been the same since the end of last year. I don’t regret meeting Scotty, he was a great guy, and in another world he and I could well have been good together. But he’s not Seb, no one is, except Seb, of course. Even if he can’t see that.
I’ve been in love with Sebastian Everett-Bryce for as long as I can remember. I spent so long pretending I didn’t, even to myself, I don’t know when it began. But I know it was long before January, long before we admitted the truth. And now, in this home that we’ve created for ourselves, we can finally be everything that we should have been for so much longer.
My world was complete the day that we admitted our true feelings in front of everyone. The moment that I opened the door to that apartment with tears in my eyes, the moment he looked at me with that shocked, dumbfounded look he gets sometimes. I giggle at the thought of it, but it doesn’t last long, my cheeks heating as I recall the rest of that particular memory. That moment in that doorway, we collided, and I don’t think my feet have touched the ground since.
As I approach our door, I admit to myself that isn’t entirely true, no matter how much I hate it. It hasn’t been as perfect as I make out. His family. His father. Jessops. Everything we do, everything I do to bring them closer seems to make Seb resent them even more. I just want him to have a family. I’d give anything to be able to tell my dad that I love him just one more time.
I pause for a second, knowing that the smile I’d had earlier had faded, and that wouldn’t work. I didn’t want to worry him. Make him second guess anything, and he absolutely would if I walked in looking like a stormcloud. I quickly adjust my ponytail and slap a smile across my face. It's not exactly difficult, I’m coming home to him, after all. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
I press my phone against the small pad that allows me entrance to our home and push open the door. It was darker than I expected, but as I close the door behind me, I spot the low lighting from the living room.
“Hey…” I call cautiously as I walk towards the living room where candles are lit and placed at almost every level. “What’s all this?”
As I step into the low, glowing light, I turn my head towards the kitchen to find Seb looking at me, a smile on his face and his head tilted. He holds out a glass.
“Hello, there,” he says, and I can’t help but chuckle. He knows what he’s done, and while I don’t say it, I have to press my lips together to keep from shouting “General Kenobi!” And tackling him.
The glass definitely would NOT survive.
Honestly, our lightsaber battles are LEGENDARY.
“You were a while, so I thought I’d do something special,” he continues on when he feels my self control is in check.
“And what is that exactly?” I ask as I walk towards him and take the glass. I take a sip and giggle as the bubbles tickle my nose. “Ohhh, Champagne. Fancy.”
He shakes his head at me in bemusement as he leans back against the counter.
“How was the run?” There it is, that look, up and down my body, and for every reason you can imagine. Seeing that look, I catch at my bottom lip with my teeth. I can’t help it. Honestly.
“It was amazing.” I say genuinely, pausing to consider whether I should tell him now or wait. Now. Always now. “Soooo… it was a run, but it wasn’t like what I used to do in Chicago,” I begin slowly. “I know, Chicago’s my city, it was my home for years, and I know the pulse of it like I know my own heartbeat. And while New York is exciting and new… you worried about me in Chicago where I knew what I was doing, where I was going, and there were paths I’d run hundreds of times before. I’m not going to stop running,” I say quickly, forestalling any protests from him. “I’m just learning new ways to do it so you don’t have to worry so much every time I go out.”
Seb takes a sip of his champagne and then sets his glass on the counter beside him.
“Go on,” he urges gently.
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“I found this place, The Movement Creative. They do classes, indoor and outdoor and some in all types of weather, they have circuits to run depending on your skill level and… it’s just so inspiring,” I let it all out in a whoosh, my excitement palpable. “So many people loving the way it feels to run and climb. All ages. There’s some kids there who are so amazing at what they do. I can learn from them and grow, and do it safely while I learn our city.”
Ours. I meant it. Ours. So many thought of New York City as theirs, one of them being our best friend, Thaddeus Duke, and maybe New York was big enough for all of us to have our little slice.
“That’s amazing, baby. I’m… I’m glad you found something. I won’t pretend I wasn’t worried about you running where you aren’t familiar,” he says, looking me over again. “But it was okay?” He asks, still clearly checking that I’m not hiding anything from him. I’m not. Honest. “You’re okay?”
I shrug and then nod happily, unable to keep the beaming smile from my face. Just talking about it makes my limbs feel loose, and I think back to what it felt like to run the ready-made tracks full of ledges and jumps taken by other free-runners rather than using the urban environment.
There was something to be said about taking a path you knew not many had taken before… but for now…
“Took a tumble or two, but I’m fine.” I answer honestly. I won’t pretend I’m perfect or that I’ve never had a fall, never had that moment of panic and terror as I realize my feet weren’t quite as solid as I’d thought, that that last twist had been a little too much, that I’ve never scraped my nails bloody and jagged against rough concrete as I scramble for purchase. But that isn’t what happened today. “Little achy, but nothing a shower can’t handle.”
“Alright, well… You do that, and I’ll get dinner started,” he says, picking up his glass and finishing it off before setting it down again.
“... You’re going to cook?” It’s a statement, but I make it a question, my eyebrows rising in surprise. Seb clears his throat and steps aside to reveal cartons on the counter.
“I’m going to heat up,” he admits with a roll of his eyes.
“Perfect,” I say definitively, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
I turn away from him and slip up the stairs to our bedroom and bath, trying to be as quick as I can be. No reason to linger if he’s not joining me, and since he’s occupied…
Turning on the hot water, I give myself a few moments where I stand beneath it, letting it soothe my aching muscles. As the hot water spills over me, I feel a shiver move up my spine that has my toes curling. I work my fingers through my hair, washing it as I drift to that feeling of the first shower after a match that didn’t feel at all unlike this one. The heat soothing away aches and stinging welts.
The way that shower had felt after the match against Tact. The match where I’d beaten him. Had anyone expected that?
I’d cried in the shower after that win. No one knows, not even Seb, what it meant to me, what it means to me. Some things are just too personal. Everyone has those moments.
I’m not just in this industry because of my dad or because of Seb, I’m in this business because I love it. All of it. How it feels, how it grips me, how my pulse quickens everytime I leap from the ropes or a turnbuckle onto an opponent. I’m in this business because I’m a professional wrestler, and I never want that to stop. I can’t wait to get in the ring again, this time with Alix Mayne, and completely steal the show.
I know at least one person who will be watching the outcome of that match with great interest, the guy whose title is on the line against whoever wins.
Spoiler: It’s gonna be me.
Yes, I definitely did think it like the NSync song.
I slip out of the shower and towel dry my hair before pulling it back behind my head. Styling could wait until tomorrow. I pull on a pair of comfy shorts and a tank top before I slip back out of our bedroom and down the stairs into the living room. I saw the dining table set, but Seb was still in the kitchen. I want him more than the food anyway, so I move in behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.
As I do so, Seb presses ‘play’ on his phone and the speaker in the kitchen bursts into life, playing one of my favorite songs, “Love Grows” by Edison Lighthouse. I press a quick kiss to his back as he turns around and pulls me close. It takes a second to register what’s happening, but when it does, my heart swells.
He’d remembered the story I’d told him, the one my mom had told me, about how she and my dad didn’t have much, but what they had was love. That my dad would turn on the radio or play a CD of my mom’s favorite songs and they’d dance together in the kitchen.
“I love you, Sebastian,” I say softly as I press my face into his shoulder to hide my tears.
“I love you too, Sloane,” he says as he pulls me in closer.
And there in the darkness I found behind my closed eyes, I could see my mom and dad dancing as we swayed to the music. Not satisfied with those small movements, Seb draws back and spins me out away from him, the tears evaporating as a smile lights up my face.
And everything feels so right.
While it hadn’t been the most dangerous or the most taxing, the feeling of my feet pounding the pavement, the way my eyes automatically scan for whatever surface I can use to challenge my body… it was almost perfect.
Almost.
Often I tested myself with heights and wide jumps, quick transitions and agility, small things enough to make Seb’s heart stop, but today had been about endurance. Chicago will always be my home course, my natural habitat, but I’d finally stepped out of my comfort zone. It was almost shameful that I’d visited these amazing places in the last couple of years and I would busy myself with the sights and sounds without ever thinking of taking a climb. Perhaps as New York became my new stomping ground it would give me confidence to run no matter where we were.
Oof. Seb wouldn’t like that.
I feel the smile cross my lips as I approach the building of our new home, knowing Seb would be waiting to see how my day had gone. He’d look me up and down in that way he always did, that way that made me blush even now, but this time, it would have an additional edge. He’d look for bruises and scrapes, flesh reddened and sore from an impact, all manner of signs that maybe I wasn’t telling him the whole truth, that maybe the run didn’t go quite so smoothly. He always worries when I run, not that he’d ever stop me. But I know everytime I walk out that door to do what I do, he feels his pulse quicken. He won’t settle until the door opens once more, and I walk back in. Honestly, it’s amazing to have someone care for me so deeply.
Part of me feels like it’s selfish to keep doing this.
Sebastian Everett-Bryce, the man who should never have been mine, not when you look at the differences between us, but it was our differences that brought us so close. Our background, our history, all so very different, brought together by this business. I’ll always be thankful for that.
I know Seb thinks that the reason I come back every time I get hurt is because I want to honor my dad. And while that’s true, I have a new reason. I owe wrestling for bringing Seb to me and me to him, because without it, I can’t imagine how we would have ever met.
As I step into the elevator, I feel that same excitement I’d had every day since we’d arrived. New beginnings. Our brand new start. He’d never admit it, but our apartment had never quite been the same since the end of last year. I don’t regret meeting Scotty, he was a great guy, and in another world he and I could well have been good together. But he’s not Seb, no one is, except Seb, of course. Even if he can’t see that.
I’ve been in love with Sebastian Everett-Bryce for as long as I can remember. I spent so long pretending I didn’t, even to myself, I don’t know when it began. But I know it was long before January, long before we admitted the truth. And now, in this home that we’ve created for ourselves, we can finally be everything that we should have been for so much longer.
My world was complete the day that we admitted our true feelings in front of everyone. The moment that I opened the door to that apartment with tears in my eyes, the moment he looked at me with that shocked, dumbfounded look he gets sometimes. I giggle at the thought of it, but it doesn’t last long, my cheeks heating as I recall the rest of that particular memory. That moment in that doorway, we collided, and I don’t think my feet have touched the ground since.
As I approach our door, I admit to myself that isn’t entirely true, no matter how much I hate it. It hasn’t been as perfect as I make out. His family. His father. Jessops. Everything we do, everything I do to bring them closer seems to make Seb resent them even more. I just want him to have a family. I’d give anything to be able to tell my dad that I love him just one more time.
I pause for a second, knowing that the smile I’d had earlier had faded, and that wouldn’t work. I didn’t want to worry him. Make him second guess anything, and he absolutely would if I walked in looking like a stormcloud. I quickly adjust my ponytail and slap a smile across my face. It's not exactly difficult, I’m coming home to him, after all. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
I press my phone against the small pad that allows me entrance to our home and push open the door. It was darker than I expected, but as I close the door behind me, I spot the low lighting from the living room.
“Hey…” I call cautiously as I walk towards the living room where candles are lit and placed at almost every level. “What’s all this?”
As I step into the low, glowing light, I turn my head towards the kitchen to find Seb looking at me, a smile on his face and his head tilted. He holds out a glass.
“Hello, there,” he says, and I can’t help but chuckle. He knows what he’s done, and while I don’t say it, I have to press my lips together to keep from shouting “General Kenobi!” And tackling him.
The glass definitely would NOT survive.
Honestly, our lightsaber battles are LEGENDARY.
“You were a while, so I thought I’d do something special,” he continues on when he feels my self control is in check.
“And what is that exactly?” I ask as I walk towards him and take the glass. I take a sip and giggle as the bubbles tickle my nose. “Ohhh, Champagne. Fancy.”
He shakes his head at me in bemusement as he leans back against the counter.
“How was the run?” There it is, that look, up and down my body, and for every reason you can imagine. Seeing that look, I catch at my bottom lip with my teeth. I can’t help it. Honestly.
“It was amazing.” I say genuinely, pausing to consider whether I should tell him now or wait. Now. Always now. “Soooo… it was a run, but it wasn’t like what I used to do in Chicago,” I begin slowly. “I know, Chicago’s my city, it was my home for years, and I know the pulse of it like I know my own heartbeat. And while New York is exciting and new… you worried about me in Chicago where I knew what I was doing, where I was going, and there were paths I’d run hundreds of times before. I’m not going to stop running,” I say quickly, forestalling any protests from him. “I’m just learning new ways to do it so you don’t have to worry so much every time I go out.”
Seb takes a sip of his champagne and then sets his glass on the counter beside him.
“Go on,” he urges gently.
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“I found this place, The Movement Creative. They do classes, indoor and outdoor and some in all types of weather, they have circuits to run depending on your skill level and… it’s just so inspiring,” I let it all out in a whoosh, my excitement palpable. “So many people loving the way it feels to run and climb. All ages. There’s some kids there who are so amazing at what they do. I can learn from them and grow, and do it safely while I learn our city.”
Ours. I meant it. Ours. So many thought of New York City as theirs, one of them being our best friend, Thaddeus Duke, and maybe New York was big enough for all of us to have our little slice.
“That’s amazing, baby. I’m… I’m glad you found something. I won’t pretend I wasn’t worried about you running where you aren’t familiar,” he says, looking me over again. “But it was okay?” He asks, still clearly checking that I’m not hiding anything from him. I’m not. Honest. “You’re okay?”
I shrug and then nod happily, unable to keep the beaming smile from my face. Just talking about it makes my limbs feel loose, and I think back to what it felt like to run the ready-made tracks full of ledges and jumps taken by other free-runners rather than using the urban environment.
There was something to be said about taking a path you knew not many had taken before… but for now…
“Took a tumble or two, but I’m fine.” I answer honestly. I won’t pretend I’m perfect or that I’ve never had a fall, never had that moment of panic and terror as I realize my feet weren’t quite as solid as I’d thought, that that last twist had been a little too much, that I’ve never scraped my nails bloody and jagged against rough concrete as I scramble for purchase. But that isn’t what happened today. “Little achy, but nothing a shower can’t handle.”
“Alright, well… You do that, and I’ll get dinner started,” he says, picking up his glass and finishing it off before setting it down again.
“... You’re going to cook?” It’s a statement, but I make it a question, my eyebrows rising in surprise. Seb clears his throat and steps aside to reveal cartons on the counter.
“I’m going to heat up,” he admits with a roll of his eyes.
“Perfect,” I say definitively, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
I turn away from him and slip up the stairs to our bedroom and bath, trying to be as quick as I can be. No reason to linger if he’s not joining me, and since he’s occupied…
Turning on the hot water, I give myself a few moments where I stand beneath it, letting it soothe my aching muscles. As the hot water spills over me, I feel a shiver move up my spine that has my toes curling. I work my fingers through my hair, washing it as I drift to that feeling of the first shower after a match that didn’t feel at all unlike this one. The heat soothing away aches and stinging welts.
The way that shower had felt after the match against Tact. The match where I’d beaten him. Had anyone expected that?
I’d cried in the shower after that win. No one knows, not even Seb, what it meant to me, what it means to me. Some things are just too personal. Everyone has those moments.
I’m not just in this industry because of my dad or because of Seb, I’m in this business because I love it. All of it. How it feels, how it grips me, how my pulse quickens everytime I leap from the ropes or a turnbuckle onto an opponent. I’m in this business because I’m a professional wrestler, and I never want that to stop. I can’t wait to get in the ring again, this time with Alix Mayne, and completely steal the show.
I know at least one person who will be watching the outcome of that match with great interest, the guy whose title is on the line against whoever wins.
Spoiler: It’s gonna be me.
Yes, I definitely did think it like the NSync song.
I slip out of the shower and towel dry my hair before pulling it back behind my head. Styling could wait until tomorrow. I pull on a pair of comfy shorts and a tank top before I slip back out of our bedroom and down the stairs into the living room. I saw the dining table set, but Seb was still in the kitchen. I want him more than the food anyway, so I move in behind him and wrap my arms around his waist.
As I do so, Seb presses ‘play’ on his phone and the speaker in the kitchen bursts into life, playing one of my favorite songs, “Love Grows” by Edison Lighthouse. I press a quick kiss to his back as he turns around and pulls me close. It takes a second to register what’s happening, but when it does, my heart swells.
He’d remembered the story I’d told him, the one my mom had told me, about how she and my dad didn’t have much, but what they had was love. That my dad would turn on the radio or play a CD of my mom’s favorite songs and they’d dance together in the kitchen.
“I love you, Sebastian,” I say softly as I press my face into his shoulder to hide my tears.
“I love you too, Sloane,” he says as he pulls me in closer.
And there in the darkness I found behind my closed eyes, I could see my mom and dad dancing as we swayed to the music. Not satisfied with those small movements, Seb draws back and spins me out away from him, the tears evaporating as a smile lights up my face.
And everything feels so right.
