Author: TJ Sparkles PM
He wanted to make it up to her, if only she would let him. Chris/Trish, oneshot.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Drama - Chris Jericho & Trish Stratus - Words: 951 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 7 - Published: 06-17-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6060074
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Summary: He wanted to make it up to her, if she would let him. Chris/Trish.
A/N: I haven't written anything Chris/Trish in a long while and this just popped in my head! It's not very long, but hopefully you enjoy it!
"Please, Trish," the blond man pleaded as he jammed his hands into his pockets and shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Listen to me."
Trish whipped around, her now brunette hair making a whoosh sound as it cascaded down her back. Her normally calm, kind, even playful hazel eyes were cold and dangerous as she glared at the one man she never expected to let her down. But now here they were, Chris apologizing profusely for his less than miniscule mistake and Trish refusing to hear him out. Were the situation different, Chris would let Trish do and say anything just so he could keep her in his life, but it appeared that enough was enough for Trish, and she just didn't have the patience to listen to yet another lie. Chris was never going to change, despite his claims to the contrary.
She had tried, God knows she had tried. But Trish couldn't just stand by, helplessly, and watch as Chris spiraled even further into self-destruction. Like most addictions, his had started innocently enough, or at least that was what she had gathered from what he and some of the other boys had told her. And for the majority of the time, Chris had had a pretty firm handle on his drinking. But that all changed in the last year and a half. It seemed that, on more occasion than one, Chris could be found in the hotel bar even after the others had left, GG in hand and no one to help supervise him. After that, the addiction snowballed completely, to the point where not even Christian could get through to him. Trish knew that if his best friend couldn't make him see what he was doing, there was no earthly way that she could, even if she was his girlfriend and supposed "light of my life."
The brunette set a suitcase aside and motioned for Chris to join her on the bed. When he didn't, instead standing there motionless, almost as if he was frozen or his legs were jelly, she ran a hand through her hair and stepped forward.
"Look, Chris," Trish said gently, as she took his hands in hers, with a gentle squeeze. "I love you. I know that you love me, but you have a drinking problem."
"I don't…" he began, but Trish held up a hand to silence him.
"Please, Chris." She turned her head away, fighting back the tears she knew were coming. "Don't make this harder for me. I can't stand watching you do this to yourself."
"Why are you leaving, then?" he questioned, his voice devoid of any emotion.
"Because," Trish gulped, as she fought with her inner thoughts, "because I can't do this."
"Some girlfriend you are. I thought you were supposed to support me, huh? Help me get through this so-called drinking problem."
The brunette bit her lip, so hard this time that the familiar coppery taste of blood overwhelmed her for a second.
"I do love you, and I do support you." She paused for a second, clearing her throat and mentally reminding herself to keep her resolve, no matter how hurt Chris looked, before continuing.
"But, Chris, I can't make you see what you're doing. You have to realize that you have a problem. If you can do that, then yes, I will absolutely support you and help you every step of the way. "
Chris was stiff, his face pale and his lips pressed into a deathly thin line. He ran a hand through his short blond hair as he took a step back, releasing his hands from Trish's.
"So, that's it?"
"Yes," Trish replied quietly, as she folded her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry, Chris."
"Shit," he swore, his voice hoarse. "Damn it, Trish, don't do this." His tone was almost begging. Chris couldn't believe than in just little under an hour, his whole world had been turned completely upside down. He didn't care if Christian or Edge or even Rich abandoned him; in fact, he expected as much with the way they had all been acting lately, shunning him as if he were some sort of leper spreading a disgusting, contagious sickness that would taint their very reputation. He couldn't lie, it stung. But Trish, sweet, caring, loving Trish, his Trish, gave him strength. Now she, like the others, had abandoned him.
Trish sighed a little, her breath catching in her throat as she did so, and headed for the door. She kept her gaze averted, because she knew that if she looked at Chris again, if her hazel orbs met his illuminating blue ones, she would lose her nerve completely. She couldn't allow that to happen, no matter how much her heart longed for it. The brunette brushed past Chris brusquely, almost expecting to feel the man's calloused fingers on her arm, but he didn't even reach for her. He simply stood aside and watched as Trish Stratus, seven time Women's Champion and his other half for the better part of two years, exited his life just as gracefully as she had entered it.
His fall from grace was the cause for the demise of their relationship, and he knew that at least for the next couple of nights, sleep would elude him.