Conversation
Title: Conversation
Characters: Mickie James, Jamie Noble, Layla El
Fandom: WWE
Rating PG
It's been about an hour since he's seen her, and he thinks it's over for the night-- he's had his match, and he's just lounging around in the halls talking lowly with Mickie about the win last week, and the loss this week. It's easy with Mickie, unlike how with Layla, he was always so tongue tied and trying too hard. His friendship with Mickie reminds him of how it felt with Michelle to an extent, but without the physical attraction.
He stiffens briefly when Regal's music hits-- Crappy theme always goes right through me like a knife...-- but a calming touch from Mickie later and he's back to talking about Santino not lasting longer than five minutes in Noble's trailer park when they're interrupted again, this time by Mickie's gaze going somewhere over his shoulder. "Whatcha lookin' at, girl? Somethin' interesting back there?" He turns to look and almost trips as the suffocating, uncomfortable feeling returns.
"Can we have a minute, Jamie?" Layla asks quietly, her accented tone as loud to him as if she was right next to him.
She and Mickie have a glare off until Jamie stammers out a confirmation. "I'll be right back, girl. Don't go anywhere," he says distractedly to Mickie, before following Layla off to a deserted corner. "What do you want?" And damn, he's trying to harden his heart against her but if its rushing beat is any indication, he's losing on that one pretty well.
"Well, we hadn't talked since that one Monday and I just thought--" She's so awkward and sad-looking that he thinks he can't stand it.
"No, you know, we don't needta talk," he interrupts, causing her to look even sadder. He backtracks a bit, softening his tone. "Ya made your choice when I was unconscious in the middle of the ring. What we haveta talk about, I can't figure."
"Jamie, please--" Layla whispers, reaching out to him. He deftly backsteps, as her fingers clutch at thin air. "So that's it? I can't even breathe the same air as you anymore?"
The look he shoots at her is a pathetic attempt at anger, stuck somewhere between sadness and bitterness. "I dunno what you want from me, girl. I tried to make you happy with all I had, 'n' it wasn't enough. You got what you want now, with Regal, so leave me and Mickie alone, huh?"
He's walking off when she blurts, "Does she make you happy, Jamie?! Mickie, that is..."
He stops, back muscles tensing and relaxing spastically as he stares at the wall in front of him, eyes swimming suspiciously. "Yeah. She does. Does... does he for you, Layla?"
She licks her lips, drops her gaze to the smeared tiles at her feet. "Yes." It disgusts her how easily the lies spill forth. "I made the right choice."
"Good for you," he says, before walking off again.
"Jamie!" she calls once more, her voice wavering. She's not sure but thinks maybe it's that that makes him stop and wait once more. "I--... I'm sorry."
"So am I," he says, though what he's apologizing for, he's unsure. When he walks off this time, she doesn't say anything.
Characters: Mickie James, Jamie Noble, Layla El
Fandom: WWE
Rating PG
It's been about an hour since he's seen her, and he thinks it's over for the night-- he's had his match, and he's just lounging around in the halls talking lowly with Mickie about the win last week, and the loss this week. It's easy with Mickie, unlike how with Layla, he was always so tongue tied and trying too hard. His friendship with Mickie reminds him of how it felt with Michelle to an extent, but without the physical attraction.
He stiffens briefly when Regal's music hits-- Crappy theme always goes right through me like a knife...-- but a calming touch from Mickie later and he's back to talking about Santino not lasting longer than five minutes in Noble's trailer park when they're interrupted again, this time by Mickie's gaze going somewhere over his shoulder. "Whatcha lookin' at, girl? Somethin' interesting back there?" He turns to look and almost trips as the suffocating, uncomfortable feeling returns.
"Can we have a minute, Jamie?" Layla asks quietly, her accented tone as loud to him as if she was right next to him.
She and Mickie have a glare off until Jamie stammers out a confirmation. "I'll be right back, girl. Don't go anywhere," he says distractedly to Mickie, before following Layla off to a deserted corner. "What do you want?" And damn, he's trying to harden his heart against her but if its rushing beat is any indication, he's losing on that one pretty well.
"Well, we hadn't talked since that one Monday and I just thought--" She's so awkward and sad-looking that he thinks he can't stand it.
"No, you know, we don't needta talk," he interrupts, causing her to look even sadder. He backtracks a bit, softening his tone. "Ya made your choice when I was unconscious in the middle of the ring. What we haveta talk about, I can't figure."
"Jamie, please--" Layla whispers, reaching out to him. He deftly backsteps, as her fingers clutch at thin air. "So that's it? I can't even breathe the same air as you anymore?"
The look he shoots at her is a pathetic attempt at anger, stuck somewhere between sadness and bitterness. "I dunno what you want from me, girl. I tried to make you happy with all I had, 'n' it wasn't enough. You got what you want now, with Regal, so leave me and Mickie alone, huh?"
He's walking off when she blurts, "Does she make you happy, Jamie?! Mickie, that is..."
He stops, back muscles tensing and relaxing spastically as he stares at the wall in front of him, eyes swimming suspiciously. "Yeah. She does. Does... does he for you, Layla?"
She licks her lips, drops her gaze to the smeared tiles at her feet. "Yes." It disgusts her how easily the lies spill forth. "I made the right choice."
"Good for you," he says, before walking off again.
"Jamie!" she calls once more, her voice wavering. She's not sure but thinks maybe it's that that makes him stop and wait once more. "I--... I'm sorry."
"So am I," he says, though what he's apologizing for, he's unsure. When he walks off this time, she doesn't say anything.