Love of a Legend Killer (Randy Orton/OC)

Late Night Thoughts

Another night, another hotel.

Another night alone in bed.

Could always buy a teddy bear, but whatever. Wouldn't be the same.

Trish was lucky y'know, to have Ron. To have that someone to go home to when you had that free time off.

In all fairness Trish had it all perfectly balanced, that life on the road where her career is at it's highest, one of the top women wrestlers in this industry. Then she had her home life, whete she'd fly back home to a fiancé who loves and cares for her.

Am I jealous? Of course I am.

Trish is the woman. She can do it all.

Maybe I'm overthinking this.

My time for a special someone will come when it happens.

Thoughts drifted back to what Trish had said.

"If you like Randy then that's fine, I mean he's a lovely guy-"

So she kinda approves of him. That's a good thing.

But was there really anything there between me and Randy? Yeah we had become close in such a short amount of time.

He'd come and see me either before, during or after every show to talk. Often calling and texting throughout the day.

I remember the time he came to me after his hardcore match against Mick Foley at Backlash, instead of going to the medics he came to me.


- flashback; Backlash, after Randy's match with Mick Foley -


Randy was sat on a stool as I stood behind him. A damp cloth in one hand and the bin beside me on the floor.

"Are you sure you're ready?", I asked for a third time, not really wanting to do this.

He had come to me before his match was due to ask if I would help him get cleaned up as he didn't want another person doing it.

Me, not knowing how much of a state he was going to be in, agreed.

I should have thought it through, I mean he was going into a match with Mick Foley, hardcore legend. This was the guy who lost his ear, thrown off the top of a steel cage and thrown through the ceiling of the cage down to the center of the ring.

This match wasn't going to be pretty.

"Just do it.", Randy said in a pained voice.

"Ok, here it goes..", I sighed, taking a breath.

I placed my hand on his shoulder to steady him as I pulled out the first thumbtack from his back. He winced at the feeling of it being removed, a small trail of blood seeping through the small mark it had left on his back, which I wiped away with the cloth I had in my hand.

Halfway through his match with Foley he attempted to pull his signature RKO finisher, only to be dumped back first onto a bed of thumbtacks. The tacks sticking into his back, elbows, hands and even his ass.

He was a human pin cushion.

Continuing to work on his back, taking out the tacks and dropping them into the bin.

The fact that he puts his body on the line every week as his career is just wow. But not just him, but everyone else who wrestles for this company. Male and female.

Taking all these rough bumps and going through risky stipulations to put on entertaining matches for the fans all throughout the year. Gotta hand it to them.

It hurt to see that he put his body in the line like this though. It hurts to see Trish do the same.

I sniffled, holding back the unessissary tears what were forming.

Why am I tearing up?

I'm tearing up because I care for this lovable jerk.

The egotistical jerk. He is an arrogant twenty-three year old who thinks he is the best, the man of destiny. The guy who spat in Foley's face. The current Intercontinental Champion.

The jerk who isn't really a jerk once you get to know him.

Like he says, "it's not cockiness, it's just confidence."

Randy turned to look at me, hearing me sniffle; a slight frown on his face.
He took his hand in mine carefully as we just stood there looking at eachother in silence.

"You okay?", he asked softly.

"Fine, just..", I nodded curtly. "It's difficult to see you this way, that's all.", I laughed at myself. I felt stupid telling him this, I probably shouldn't care as much as I do.

"It's what comes with the job.", he shrugged giving me a lazy smile.

"I know but sometimes it's just crazy some of the stuff you guys do."

"We know what we're doing, and we do it as safe as we possibly can, even though sometimes things go wrong, that just happens.", he said.

I nodded in reply as I pulled the last few tacks out, disposing of them.

"I believe I'm done. You are now tack free.", I smiled slighty.

Randy stood up, rolling his shoulders and stretching, a small hint of pain showed through his facial expression but that soon dissapeared.

"Thanks for doing this Melody.", he grinned.

That Orton grin. I swear it'll be the death of me. It's just infectious.

"I mean, it's not exactly the best thing I'd ask you to do, picking thumbtacks out of my back and wiping blood away, it's not exactly something you ask someone to do everyday.", he sighed.

"It's no problem.", I shrugged slightly.

"I'm gonna go get a shower, I'll see you later.", he smiled, pulling me into a hug. It lasted for a moment before he pulled away and walked out the door towards the men's locker room.


- end of flashback -


There was no doubt that I didn't care for him. Because I did. If I didn't then I wouldn't have agreed to help him out after his match. I wouldn't have nearly cried due to him going through this pain just to entertain the wrestling universe.

And that scares me.

It scares me cause I'm starting to wonder how much I actually do care for Randy.

What if I'm caring more for him than he does for me?

What if he doesn't care at all?

I mean he's a twenty-four year old male, why should he care?

He's at the height of his career of the moment, the current World Heavyweight Champion. That's all he cares about. That's what should be focused on.

He doesn't need someone like me.

But the thought of him not caring gives me a dull pain in my chest.

I don't like it.

Maybe I do like Randy more than I should. More than the friendly way.

I might be falling for the Legend Killer, Randy Orton.