Lake Tahoe ||| September 9, 2021
The view from the little terrace was unbelievable, absolutely breathtaking. Sev exhaled slowly, looking over the sun as it sank out over the impossibly blue water, turning the puffy clouds along the horizon into an ombre of oranges, reds and pinks. It was so beautiful it made his chest ache – he had never seen something like this. All of his previous travels across the world had been planned with economy and functionality. As long as there was a bed and a door that locked for the illusion of privacy, it was sufficient. He'd never cared to see the sights, to sample the finer things in life. Those luxuries had been frivolous at best when he had maintenance of THE MONSTER MACHINE to consider above all else. So many years wasted and now he felt that sensation akin to drowning, that sinking feeling even as his chest tightened in a wholly different way.
His thick fingers wrapped around the metal railing, feeling the residual warmth of the day – the promise of an Indian Summer was carried on the breeze that smelled the way one of those expensive candles tried to recapture. Fresh. Clean. Electric ozone. Like
freedom and
infinite possibilities.
He closed his eyes, dragging in another breath. Holding it until he heard the slide of the door behind him and the light tread of her bare feet on the wood. She came to stand beside him, as pensively quiet as he was, and he wished he knew what that meant. Was she happy? Was she as overcome with emotion at this sight as he was? He wanted to ask but the words were stuck. This impromptu trip had been for her, to impress her with the things he could suddenly afford now that he was free – the gesture felt foolish now, childish even.
Sev glanced over at her, surprised to find she was looking up at him and he immediately shifted so that he was standing behind her. LJ leaned back against him, relaxing in his embrace and all he could think was that there was nothing he could say to express how in love he was; he hoped that the small things he did would show that. A sigh escaped his lips as he tightened his arms around her. He was keenly aware of her, his mind in overdrive. He'd come a long way from that blank mould who had stumbled off the plane from Kharkiv, bumbling straight into the wrestling business. More than twenty-two years had passed in the blink of an eye and he mourned all that lost time – a part of him knew that it shouldn't be taken personally. He had made the choice unknowingly. He had given himself to the industry without a care, without hesitation.
Why was this any different? Why was he holding back?She knew him better than he thought she did, feeling the tension even as he held her so gently. Her hand lifted to rest on his tattooed arm, immediately comforting. "It's so
perfect here," she murmured, punctuating the declaration with a content sigh. Her other hand lifted to push the hair behind her ear as a breeze kicked up off the water.
His response was a soft chuff of a grunt before he bent his head, pressing his lips to her crown. The sweet candy smell of her shampoo filled his lungs, making him think of that roadside carnival they'd stopped at on a whim a few months ago. He remembered the noise of the games, the shrieks and laughter of children on the rides and the sickly-sweet smell of spun sugar and candy apples. Feeling weightless when the Ferris Wheel carried them towards the sky had been the closest to heaven he'd ever been – he could still hear the joy in her laughter, feel her tiny fingers as they intertwined with his.
"Yes," he finally said, feeling the weight of the tiny velvet box in his pocket, "it is."
He lapsed back into that stoic silence, feeling the comforting weight of her in his arms as his mind stitched together and then discarded a thousand possible ways to broach the subject. For the last few days, even before the flight out to Lake Tahoe, he'd tried to write it all down, to polish his clumsy words and find the perfect way to tell her how much she meant. The past year had been absolutely incredible, a thousand lifetimes of bittersweet memories packed into the last 330 days. If he were to perish now, those would be the things that flashed before his eyes – most cherished because she was there in almost every one.
"This is nice," Sev cleared his throat, his voice barely above a rough whisper, "the quiet, the water and the mountains. I have never seen such beautiful things. It is..." his voice caught and God bless her, she pretended not to notice as she smoothly cut in.
"Too much?"
"Yes." He felt shame at that confession, weak despite the sheer size of his muscular physique. "But it is not bad,
solnyshko. I do not hate it."
She turned around, her hand coming up to rest on his cheek and he could see the gentle smile on her lips. Kindness shone in her eyes and it eased the tension, that overwhelming warmth of love rushing in to replace it. "Talk to me, Sev. I know there's something on your mind besides the gorgeous view."
Another huff left his lips as he shook his head, almost playful as he chastised, "I cannot hide things from you."
"Oh no." LJ giggled, "you'll have to stop calling yourself ENIGMA."
His smile faltered, fading away as he grew serious. "A mystery to them. Never you. I mean this." There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of a tremor in his voice. It took everything in him to hold her gaze, to deny the fear that clawed at his insides. "I do not know how to say these things, but I... I am trying."
"You don't have to say anything," understanding dawned in her expression as she rested her hand against his chest. She was biting her lip, holding her breath because there was something in the sweet breeze and the look on his face that crystallised the moment into something pure. Something
transcendent.
One hand went to his pocket but he still held her gaze as the other rested gently on her shoulder. The box opened without a sound and he slipped the ring onto the tip of his pinky finger. "I do, though," he corrected her gently. "
Solnyshko – you are my little sunshine, the warmest light in all the dark corners."
He dropped to one knee in front of her, his hand sliding down her arm to take her left hand. Rather than proffering the ring and risking a fumble and the delicate little thing falling to be lost forever beneath the terrace slats, he slid it onto her finger. He knew it would fit. He had made sure of that. Bowing his head, he rested it against the back of her hand as he felt the burning of tears in his eyes. "I cannot do this without you – this living. Lauren-Jane..." he almost never said her name, especially not in full – the way he said it now was filled with so many emotions and she felt tears flooding her eyes as she nodded even though he hadn't finished the question.
"Yes," she said immediately, dropping to her knees; she buried herself against his chest, hearing the strong and steady beating of his heart... and the choked sob that welled in his throat. Or was it hers? "A thousand times yes, Sev. I'll marry you."
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━
"This business, it decides who you are with barely more than cursory glances. We believe in the illusion of choice, in the concept of free will and a definition we can shape because hope is what drives us. Deep down, we all want the same thing, do we not? Of course. The golden baubles. The glory. Our names to be recorded in the history books, our matches to be thought of fondly and brought up in casual conversation years after our passings. I wanted these things but I did not ever ask for them. I accepted the opportunity extended to me, the one that had me on an international flight when I did not know more than a few sentences of English. Fish are not meant to swim upstream, to fight the currents. If you continue to fight, though, one of two things will happen. You will be exhausted, defeated… or you will grow stronger than the current." The voice that emanates from the gloom is pitched low, the cadence and English strangely-accented although every word is clear. The hulking figure of THE MONSTER MACHINE moves into view, sitting down on a rusted and pitted metal throne. It looks like a prop from some dystopian Mad Max knockoff, all jagged edges and poorly welded scorch marks. Soot rings his eyes, a red stripe running over his forehead to disappear in the furrow between his brows and those colorless eyes are narrowed as ENIGMA hunches forward to clasp his hands between his knees, the leather bracers on his wrists creaking as they flex.
"I am not here to talk about fish." The statement is clearly meant to be a joke as he pauses, his lips quivering towards a smile before that neutral mask resumes.
"This business forces you to choose the moment you step through the doors, to fit yourself into a box. Those who do it well, they will rise. And this is not a bad thing because without a foundation, there can be no building. There can be no structure. No heights. I do not wish to remain below this time. Not again. Never again."
That smirk returns for a moment, a small huff of amusement passing his lips at the irony of his statement.
"Everyone plays this game because we have been told that conformity is good. Homogeny is desirable – colouring outside the lines is never acceptable. I was told to behave. To be good. Be honest. Have integrity. Never lie. Never steal. Play nice. They will not understand you. Do not waste their time with your silly thoughts, Slava – they do not want to hear a dummy speak. I am not fish, but it was easier to swim in a way that did not leave me vulnerable. I regret the time wasted this way. Still, those who knew me in those days could say that I was reliable. Dangerous if crossed – this is a thing that will never change. This is the thing I will impress on you now. This dirty little rock you are living on is about to change. This is a fresh start, a reset. For us both." He leans back, teeth flashing in a predatory snarl.
"I was owned once before. I did not care for it and I will not allow this to happen again. My freedom, I will protect this at all costs and the spoils are only yours until someone else comes along to take them from you. That someone has arrived and I do not take this moment for a first impression lightly. I have been in this business for years, spilled blood in arenas barely remembered. I know you are thinking 'who is this old man to threaten us? Who is this washed-up, tattooed bum trying to show off in our ring; who does he think he is'?I do not think. I know the truth.
I am nobody. I am nothing.
At Victory, I will change direction. I will win. You will see."
