Off-camera, it had been several days since the latest card for Havoc had been announced. Another show where Sean Parker hadn’t been booked as he continued his physical and mental recovery from the heinous attack at the hands of Azami Kiriyama. The wrestling world had been left in shock after her attack on Sean, Michelle and Red Dragon, the latter of whom hadn’t been seen since he took an immediate leave of absence after he was medically allowed to leave hospital, travelling back to Japan.

Also conspicuous by her own absence was Azami herself. Neither she nor Erica had been heard of since they were seen fleeing the arena at the end of Fatality.

Sean himself was struggling. Physically he was getting stronger each day. He only needed to wear his brace for a few hours every day but was still feeling flashes of phantom pain here and there. He was due to begin physiotherapy soon and was told in no uncertain terms to avoid any forms of physical exercise that could compromise his recovery. Mentally thoigh, was a completely different picture. It was like when Azami had revealed herself and impaled Masamune through Sean’s shoulder that she had also sliced away a part of his psyche and had etched her way inside and taken residence. Like a parasite.

Whilst the dizziness he had experienced with his concussion had started to subside, the images he saw every time he closed his eyes hadn’t. It was always her. And every time he saw her it was like he was back in the ring on that fateful night, experiencing the whole traumatic event all over again. He would clamour and cling to Michelle like she was a comfort blanket he couldn’t be without. As much as he knew Michelle would never begrudge him feeling like he needed her, he could see in her eyes that it was beginning to impact her to the point she sometimes couldn’t leave the room without Sean knowing where she was going, even just going to the bathroom.

He had tried therapy sessions with a specialist in PTSD that Michelle had done some research on but he hadn’t been completely sold on it. But this was important to Michelle and so he stuck with it.

Today, it had been about 72 hours since his last session. He recalled bursting into tears like a little child because he’d felt so helpless, the very mention of Azami’s name causing him to jerk his head suddenly as if she were there and then the inevitable cries out for Michelle.

Sean, attired in just a pair of shorts, was lying onPop the floor of his living room, his arms crossed over his chest, doing a set of crunches, sweat dripping down his face and upper torso. He can feel the stretch in his shoulder but keeps going but suddenly hears his front door opening. At first, the sudden sound of the door opening set off his anxiety and it was only the sound of Michelle’s sweet voice that quelled it.

(Michelle): It’s just me!

Sean tried to scramble back to the couch; he knew that Michelle would be disappointed if she knew he’d been working out against doctor’s orders. But the sweat pouring off his face and body was already a dead giveaway. She hadn’t looked over in his direction yet, still entering with a few bags of groceries.

(Michelle): Whole Foods had fresh Sea Bass on sale so I couldn’t resist and I made an extra stop to get you a little surprise.

Setting the bags down, Michelle has a sneaky smile on her face as she picks up a pink box and tip toes into the living room showing Sean the Crumbl cookies she got for a sweet treat. As she removed the box from her face, her smile diminished to slight disappointment.

(Michelle): Sean? You know what the doctor said.

Michelle sets the box aside and walks over to Sean who looks like a pup who just peed the floor. She kneels down putting her hand on his back and can feel the heavier inhale and exhale as his heart rate slows from the exercise he no doubt was just doing. She looks him over carefully checking for any indications of pain. She sighs. She knows he’s in a sensitive place right now and doesn’t want to berate him. Her voice softens as she leans into him, putting her arm around him.

(Michelle): I know how eager you are to get back to things, but you have to be careful, sweetie.

She looks around to see a towel on the floor beside him and grabs it dabbing at the sweat on his face. Whilst the feeling of her hand on his face and back was nice, Sean instantly felt the pang of regret in his chest. He hated seeing that look of disappointment on her face and he briefly remembered the hurt in her voice when he had secretly flown home to Scotland to have his assessment on his knee before Ring Master last year.

(Sean): I know, I’m sorry… I’m just going stir crazy. If I sit and do nothing, I keep seeing Az- her… and if I work out too much, my shoulder freezes. And these stupid exercises aren’t doing me any good. I feel like Daniel in Karate Kid being told to just hammer wooden nails into a fence when I want to do more. I don’t like the anxiety meds Dr Avery gave me either… they give me brain fog.

Sean pouts, sighing exasperatedly as he leans back, tilting his head back against the back of the couch as he mops his face with his hands. He looks up at Michelle putting on his best puppy dog look.

(Sean): Does this mean I don’t get a cookie?

Michelle guided Sean to the sofa and he scooted on the floor until his back was against it and she nestled herself between his legs taking his arms and gently wrapping them around her.

(Michelle): We’ll give the doctor a call, he said he would ween you off them so maybe it’s time for it.

Her hand rests on his legs and begins to rub at the almost indistinguishable scar left on his knee from his surgery last year. The bristle of the hairs on his leg are caressed by her fingertips. His skin is still warmed from his workout and she suddenly remembers the pints of ice cream she brought home still sitting in the bag, but she doesn’t want to leave him.

(Michelle): It won’t be long. You said you were still going to make your scheduled appearances coming up so that’s something to look forward to. The fans will be so excited to see you, especially the kids. Sean sighed. The feeling of Michelle’s fingertips grazing against his legs was relaxing, her gentle touch almost angelic. He kept his hug-like grip around Michelle before rubbing his hand affectionately on her tummy before they took up residence on her waistline.

(Sean): I know. It’s literally the only thing that makes being part of that godforsaken company worth it right now. I don’t want to spend more time there than I need to though. I don’t want to run into… into her…

Sean pressed his forehead gently against the back of Michelle’s neck, placing an equally gentle kiss on it before releasing another sigh.

(Sean): I’m just glad you’ll be there.

His breath on her neck was so gentle, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back into his embrace. This was her comfort zone, he was her comfort zone…and it was in this moment that she began to realize just how much she had become his. Silence filled the room. Only their subtle breaths danced on the air.

His fingers played at the elastic on her shorts, one finding its way inside the band feeling the softness of her skin. Her body tensed just the slightest bit, pressed up against him she was almost certain she could feel his manhood swell against her back as he quickly withdrew his finger.

(Sean): Sorry!

She touched his hand and guided it back to her waist. This wasn’t sex, they were just touching but her desire for him was a constant struggle at war with her faith. She wore the guilt of it like a Scarlet Letter. How long would she be confined by doctrine? Her love of God had not been diminished by this new life of hers. If anything, it was reinforced. Part of her was tired of beating herself up, and the other part…the little girl raised in a bubble still had far too many old habits.

Sean’s finger returned to her waistband and glided across her skin to her panties. His touch was electric. This was as close as he’d ever been….down there. The tip of his finger touched the soft pubic hair between her legs and she let out the tiniest of moans reaching up to cup his head with her hand. Her hand rubbed his leg firmer and she felt her own body warm, her nipples hardened and what once would have felt wrong and shameful felt so right. He felt, so right.

She loved this man, and he loved her. How could something so wonderful that God brought together be such a sin. Some of the Mormon beliefs she held began to seem dated, and she’d now seen demons…this was not evil, the devil had nothing to do with their love so she returned his touch stroking his thigh as his opposite had moved to her chest and cupped her breast. She moaned once more and Sean’s breath caught in his throat. Her hand on his thigh was warm, but it was the way she’d placed it there, so subtly but deliberate and it sent a hum through his core. This wasn’t him pushing for more; this was them, together, navigating something unspoken, something neither of them could seem to put words to.

Sean leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, slower this time, letting his lips linger against her skin as his hand stilled just beneath the band of her panties. He didn’t move further. Not yet. He just rested his hand there, feeling the rhythm of her pulse and the softness of her skin, before gliding his fingers down slowly, his fingertips grazing against her. He didn’t want to rush anything. He just wanted to feel her.

Sean hadn’t grown up with the same religious structures she had, but he’d always respected them, respected her. He had seen the way she wrestled with herself, how she’d try to smile through the guilt. But this… this was different. This wasn’t about rules or rebellion. This was love. Deep, quiet, reverent love. Sean let his fingers trace delicate patterns, just above where her body pulsed with warmth. He breathed in her scent, something clean and slightly sweet and he closed his eyes.

Meanwhile, Michelle’s hand, still stroking his thigh, stilled for a moment, and then gave a gentle squeeze in reply. She tilted her head further, granting him access to her throat, and he accepted it, pressing a line of slow kisses beneath her ear, down the side of her neck, his free hand still cradling her breast through the fabric of her top. Her nipple was hard beneath his palm, and he cupped it more fully, letting his thumb stroke lazy circles over the center. Michelle’s breathing had changed, deeper, slower. Sean continued to let his other hand drift down again, fingers brushing the fine hairs between her thighs.

Michelle’s heart raced and surely he felt its rhythm quicken under his touch. He’d suffered so much, this moment of satisfaction wasn’t just something she began to feel he needed…but she too wanted this human connection. She turned around to face him. The question of if, when, how far, how much, pinballed between their eyes. She leaned in and kissed him, their lips parting for one another slowly as their tongues enveloped one another.

She wondered how brave she was. Could she dare more? Would she? She pulled back just a little to see his face. He was such a boy and such a man at the same time to her both in the best of ways. It wasn’t “want” she saw etched on his face…it was need. He needed this respite, this escape from all the ails in his world. If it were only the touch of her skin, her kiss, her embrace, the caress of her hand…it was something modern medicine could not replicate…so she dared.

She reached down to his shorts pressing her hand against his groin. She touched it, but didn’t feel it. She held her hand there the way you put your foot in a hot bath to get used to the water before lowering the rest of your body in. Sean exhaled a tremble when her hand settled there, through the fabric, gentle, uncertain. Her touch wasn’t lustful; it was thoughtful, searching. He didn’t move, didn’t push forward, didn’t guide her, he just watched her eyes as they scanned his face, and in them, he saw something far more profound than desire. He saw permission battling fear. He saw her testing the heat of the water, yes, but not just of his body. Of her faith, her upbringing, her entire identity.
He rested his hands at her waist, thumbs stroking the line of her hips. His voice, when it came, was raw, thick with restraint and awe.

(Sean): You can…. you can touch it if you want… You don’t have to though.

She didn’t answer him at first. Instead, she pressed her lips to his again, firmer this time, the kiss carrying a different weight. He brought a hand to her cheek, thumb brushing her jaw. And then he stilled her hand with his own, not to stop her, but to remind her he was with her in this moment, every heartbeat. Not rushing, not taking, just being.

She smiled at him, it was a nervous smile. Her hand was where it’s never been. A few layers of thin fabric were all that were between what made him a man and her a woman but it would have to wait. This had to be the limit of their little adventure. They’d made promises for their wedding night and were not hormonal teens who lacked control. They were very thoughtful, very mindful adults, both virgins carrying their own baggage slowly unpacking as their relationship blossomed into what it is now.

She was content, and while his firmness said otherwise…she hoped his spirit said the same as hers. She let her hand linger a moment longer, before gliding it up to his stomach, then chest and nestled herself there once more.

(Michelle): I love you.

She whispered, her voice so low and delicate as if she could fall asleep.

(Michelle): Hold me ….just hold me.

She turned away from him, putting her back against him once more and took his hand guiding it to her breasts.

(Michelle): Just hold me.

She wasn’t ready to relinquish his touch entirely. This simple pleasure she could allow herself, allow him. His fingers rubbed over the peak of her nipple and his touch sent shivers down her spine. She felt a pang of embarrassment, she’d heard the term “selfish lover” before…was this what she was doing…giving a little but not enough? She worried that he did not share in her satisfaction.

(Michelle): Is this…okay? Are you okay?

Her meek voice asked him hesitantly, afraid of his reply. Sean felt her hesitation even before her whisper. His arms wrapped around her carefully, reverently, his palm resting over her breast where she had placed it. Her heartbeat thudded steadily against his touch, and he let his thumb brush her softly, just once, before going still.

He could feel the vulnerability in her question strike him harder than any pleasure they’d shared tonight. This…this….was what mattered. Her heart. Their peace. And suddenly, even for a fleeting moment, his anxiety was washed away like a wave of water crashing into a forest fire. There was no Azami. Just Michelle. He kissed the crown of her head, breathing her in.

He then brushed a piece of hair away from her cheek, his other hand never leaving its place on her chest, still holding her, not grasping, not taking.Just holding.

(Sean): This is perfect. And I love you too, so, so much.

Sean pulled her close again, their bodies fitting like puzzle pieces. His hand remained gently at her breast, but it no longer carried the weight of want. He nuzzled into the side of her neck, like an alpha wolf nuzzling his mate.

(Sean): Thank you.

At that moment, everything else didn’t matter. Not Azami, not Sean’s injury, not Michelle’s trepidation, not even the melted pints of ice cream on the dining room table. Just the two of them as the scene faded to black.