Tired Eyes

"Hey, Roman… You okay?" I couldn't help but ask him. His eyes… those beautiful grey eyes of his, they were so tired. He must have looked at least 5 years older. He looked over toward me, the buzzing of the elevator was distracting him.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a bruise, babe. Just don't poke it." I had to hold myself back from rolling my eyes. Yes, I was worried about the bruise on his left arm earlier, but that's not the point.

"Not that, dummy." - I reached out and lightly grazed over the bruised area of his arm, noticing his eyes squint. Well, nice to know it still hurts. - "You look like you're going to collapse." He looked at me and raised an eyebrow before licking his lips.

"After the night we just went through, yeah, I feel like I need a good night's sleep." He said, reaching up to scratch his chin with his index finger; that was his tell. He was hiding something. As the elevator doors opened, he rushed out. Okay, he was definitely hiding something. He always lets me go through doorways first, the gentleman that he is. I trekked after him, picking up the pace in order to catch him. He's a foot taller than me, of course he walks faster. I managed to catch him as he opened the door to our hotel room, where I thrust myself in front of him to block the doorway.

"You didn't even have a match! It was Dean's match and all you did was back him up once Kofi interfered! And even then, all you did was get tossed over the barricade by Kane!" - My verbal worries were unheard as Roman literally picked me up by the waist and moved me. As I shut the door to the hallway, I heard the bathroom door slam shut. - "Dammit, Roman! Stop being so stubborn and talk to me like an adult!"

"No!"

Roman had just retreated to the hotel bathroom. I now stood in front of it with my arms crossed.

He can't stay in there forever. And so I waited, tapping my foot impatiently. After a few moments, I heard the toilet flush and the faucet turn on. Okay, here we go. I cleared my throat and readied my vocal chords for the argument that was about to ensue- but then I heard the shower start running. Are you freaking kidding me? I inwardly groaned as I turned around and flopped onto one of the hotel beds, outwardly groaning into the pillow.

About half an hour later, I found myself on my laptop responding to various tweets from fans. Connecting with the fans always calms me down, seeing as it reminds me how much of a role model I am. But then there are the fans that like to connect with me on a personal level; and I mean personal.

Believeinthereigns: dominoduh, is it true that you had a secret affair with Wade Barrett?

Tina619: dominoduh, are you a cuddler? ;) #muscularcuddling

Now, I know that Tina, AKA Christina is just joking around. She's my best friend of 6 years, but no one knows that she is; she's my undercover agent. Her mission is to get into the minds of the fangirls and to keep me in the loop; she says some are crazy obsessive while some are very cool. In most cases, the crazy obsessive ones tend to be my haters. Yes, I have haters

"omg why is wweromanreigns with dominoduh? She's so fat!"

" dominoduh doesn't even wrestle!"

" dominoduh is a stupid interviewer, how does she possibly score a guy like wweromanreigns!?"

And you know what I tell them?

"opposites attract? Beauty on the inside? Ever heard of those things?"

"lol I can wrestle with my words. You gotta admit that I can cut a decent promo. Unlike other female interviewers, I know my stuff."

"I was interviewing him one day and we just ended up having hot sex against the wall. #sarcasm #nunyabusiness"

Thankfully, I have fans that argue for me most of the time.

Sadly, I didn't have that luxury at the moment. Right as I started to type out a reply to a very rude tweet, the bathroom door opened and I was hit with a rush of hot air and steam. I looked up to find Roman in a very… exposed manner. A fluffy white towel was all that he wore. His hair was draped over his massive shoulders in ringlets, water dripping down his torso and across a valley of abdominal muscles that led to said fluffy white towel that was loosely tied around his hips. In a flash, my mind was blank. One of the various thoughts that ran through my mind was me asking myself what we were fighting about in the first place.

_

"What?"

You're standing there in nothing but a towel and you're confused as to why my mouth is salivating?

Roman was just standing there, looking at me with those bedroom eyes of his. Albeit, they were tired looking, but holy fucking shit. Did I want to jump him? Yes. Did I want to rip that towel away and ravish him like an animal in heat? Yes.

And like the lust-stricken fool I was, I watched with glazed eyes as he swaggered over to his bags and rummage through one of them to find his hair brush and blow dryer. Drops of water continued to cascade down his muscular back and disappear as they evaporated in thin air. When he palmed his scalp and pushed his hair back, I pounced.

Well, I didn't pounce. I more so rolled off of the bed and snuck up behind him, surprising him by wrapping my arms around his midsection. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at me with an eyebrow raised.

"What?" Again, he says that word. I don't exactly like it when he says it, especially in that tone. Like he was scolding me, wondering what the hell I was doing.

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked, lightly grazing my fingers over his abdomen. But then he put his hand on my wrist and pushed it away.

"Not in the mood." He growled, moving away from me to sit on the bed. I stood there, frozen with shock. Not in the mood? Instead of getting snippy and lashing out, I took a deep breath and moved to sit next to him.

"You're never not in the mood." - I laid my hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly; he looked at me with cold eyes. - "What's wrong?" I tenderly asked.

He just sighed and looked away.

"Nothing is wrong, I'm just tired." Roman stated as he continued to brush his long wet ebony locks. I frowned, seeing as he stated the obvious. I'd been asking him what was troubling him for the past 10 minutes, and all I keep getting is that 'he's tired.'

"Roman, I've been patient with you. But holy hell, are you a woman?" - The mere mention of a doubt towards his masculinity made him snap his head toward me and glare at him. - "Would you like me to lend you a tampon? Or maybe give you a midol?" He stomped over to me and put his face in front of mine.

"Stop." He growled, looking like he was holding himself back from saying something he'd regret.

"Or what?" - He backed off and started to pace, fists clenched. - "Come on, Roman. Stop being such a damn bitch and tell me what the hell is wrong with you!"

He stopped pacing, looked to me and scowled; he then rushed over to his bag and pulled something out of it, throwing it toward me.

"That's why I'm so fucking tired! That, right there, is why!" He shouted, positively furious. I turned around and crawled over to the suede box that lay on the bed, picking it up and looking at him.

"Are you fucking serious right now? You're tired because you got me a stupid piece of jewelry!?" He stomped over to me and grabbed the box, opening it and shoving it in my face.

"It's an engagement ring, for fuck's sake! While you spent the day with Dean, I went and bought this for you!" He shut the small black box and plopped it onto the nightstand.

I was shocked. When I crawled on the bed to grab the box, Roman sat down at the edge of the bed and held his head in his hands. As I sat myself behind him, I heard muttered curses. Opening the box, I found a beautiful twisted diamond ring.

"Oh my god, I…" I muttered, holding back a sob as I slid the beautiful ring onto my left ring finger. I looked back up and toward Roman, his back still facing me as he was still bent forward.

"I went all over the city looking for a ring that was good enough, that's why I'm tired." He groaned, palming his scalp and pushing his hair back again. A whimper escaped my lips as I imagined him running from store to store, claiming each ring he saw wasn't good enough.

"I don't know whether to apologize or tell you yes…" I sniffled, wiping my eyes. He sat up and turned to me, gathering my figure into his arms and pulling me to his chest.

"You can say sorry now, but you can't say yes yet." - I looked up at him and sniffled. He looked down at me and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. - "I didn't properly ask you and I want it to be perfect. Not in some hotel room while I'm fresh out of the shower and in a towel and you're sitting there in your pj's and holding back tears." He chuckled, realizing the situation we've caught ourselves in.

"Then when?" I asked, readjusting my body so I'm at eye level with him.

He leaned forward and his lips ghosted over mine.

"You'll never know."