A/N: Just a one shot I felt like writing after watching Roadblock: End of the Line. I hate seeing Sasha lose, but watching that match with Charlotte was just pure heartbreak.

Also, for those of you who have been asking about Pillow Talk, I haven't completely abandoned it yet. I want to update it so bad, but I'm really stuck with the story. If you have any suggestions on how I can go about with the next few chapters, please feel free to write them in your reviews!

I'll also be working on an AU of Sesha soon—once my thought process for it is a little more solid. In the meantime, hope you guys like this one! Reviews are highly appreciated. Thank you!

Sasha Banks groaned and leaned back against the headboard of the wooden bed inside the trainer's room, holding a huge pack of ice against her nose and flinching every time the cold touched the delicate area. It was only a few minutes after her match had ended, and though Bayley offered to accompany her, she needed the alone time. Her and Charlotte had done all the spots they'd agreed to do, and both pushed themselves to their limits—but for Sasha, it always stung to lose the title the way she did at every pay-per-view.

The loss was a little more dramatic this time around, especially with her nose getting busted and spurting blood all over the ring. It was messy, and she looked like an even weaker champion than people initially thought. It would be the end of her rivalry with Charlotte too, before Bayley took over the number one contender spot while she would be starting a feud with Nia Jax. Though most of the guys assured her that it wasn't, it felt like a demotion for Sasha. Fighting back the tears, she scrunched her nose a bit—trying to see if she could still feel it.

The door to the trainer's room opened slowly and in came Seth Rollins, still dressed in his gear. He'd be coming out later again after Jericho interfered in Roman and Kevin's match, but he had more than enough time to check on Sasha. Watching her matches always gave him a near heart attack and despite their past, he still cared. A lot.

"Ugh, Seth. Not now," she closed her eyes and leaned back again, letting the ice pack numb all the pain she was feeling.

"Come on, just let me help," he took a seat beside her, taking the ice pack gently and tilting her chin to check for any cuts or bruises.

With a heavy sigh, she let him hold the ice pack to her face again, and she couldn't help it anymore as the tears started streaming. "Ssshhh," Seth tried to console her, putting the ice back down and letting her lean against him as he placed an arm around her shoulders. "You were amazing out there. They'll always remember you for that."

She continued to sob, despite his soothing words, and he was beginning to think it wasn't about the match, her bloody nose, or the loss anymore.

"Sash," he said softly, looking down at her and feeling his heart twitch. She looked even more beautiful in her broken state, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her in that moment.

"Just—don't talk, okay? It's that damn mouth of yours that gets you into trouble all the time," she said, pushing herself up and taking the ice pack from him—placing it again against her nose.

"But I want to talk to you—I need you to hear me out."

"Seth," Sasha stopped him, closing her eyes and placing a hand against his chest. "Not now. Please?"

"Okay," he slumped before tilting his head to the side. "I love you, you know. I always have."

She shook her head. "You don't get to say that now—now that everything is over."

"But it doesn't have to be!" he exclaimed in frustration. "I fucked up. I know. But I need you to let me make things right, Sash. I need you," he looked shattered and desperate, and he clung on to Sasha's arm like his life depended on it.

"What I need is rest," she said in defeat. "I'm banged up and exhausted, and I just really want to sleep my way through the week."

"Let me take you back to the hotel," Seth half-offered, half-pleaded. "Just wait for me to do my appearance with Roman then we can go."

"Ugh," Sasha closed her eyes again. "Not right now, Seth."

"Please, Sash."

She sighed and looked at him. How could she ever resist him—especially with the way he looked at her? His eyes were always so easy-to-read, and right now they bore the saddest expression. He knew just how to melt the walls she so often placed around herself. "Fine."

With a grin, Seth pressed a kiss to her forehead and hopped off. "I'll see you later."

As soon as the show ended, Seth looked for her everywhere—the trainer's room, catering, even hair and makeup. He went to the women's locker room last, knocked a few times, and found her asleep on one of the benches—his old Seth Rollins hoodie jacket pulled up against her small frame like a blanket.

"Hey," he whispered, kneeling down and kissing her temple. "Sorry, it took me a while. I had to go do an interview after."

She stifled a yawn and sat up. Her nose felt better, but her face still felt a little numb from the ice. "Here," Seth offered to carry her bag, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she limped a bit, before leading the way to the parking lot.

When they got to her hotel room, Seth took over like he always did—making sure she was taken care of. While she was in the shower, he kept her bag in place, prepared her bed, switched the air-conditioner to a temperature she was accustomed to, filled a glass of water and placed painkillers on the bedside table, and turned on the TV to play Spirited Away. He wasn't always this affectionate before, but with Sasha, he would always make that exemption.

She emerged moments later in matching lilac, cotton pajamas—they were her favorite to wear after an exhausting match or training when her whole body was aching.

"Here," Seth handed a mug of hot chocolate with a sparkle in his eye. "Ordered from room service—had them charge it on my tab," he said, watching as she took the mug and gave a small smile. Even after all this time, he still knew how to make her feel better and it made her heart skip a beat.

"I'll just take a quick shower, alright?" he said, entering the bathroom with a pair of fresh sweatpants and an old merch shirt from his bag. When he finished, he found Sasha lying on her stomach on the bed, watching the movie.

Seth tied his hair in a low bun and joined her, motioning for her to sit on his lap as he began kneading her shoulders. "That okay?" he asked softly, letting her lean against him as she closed her eyes and relaxed into his touch. She always treasured these moments with him—he loved spoiling her silly, and getting massages was just one of the many things he liked to do to pamper her.

"Yeah," she said, looking up to smile at him. "I missed this."

"Oh baby, I missed this too," Seth nuzzled the crook of her neck and inhaled the scent of her hair, wrapping his arms around her. "Can we just go back to the way things were?"

Sasha sighed and turned around; her expression pained. "Seth," her lip quivered. "I don't think I'm there right now."

"No, no," Seth shook his head and placed both hands gently on her face. "Don't say that."

Sasha bit her lower lip, as Seth caressed his thumb gently against it. "Sash, please," he whispered, slowly leaning in. "Just take me back."

"Why should I?" she tilted her head, awaiting his lips to touch hers.

"Because I love you, and you love me. And I never should have waited this long to say it."

Sasha's lips turned up into a half smile, and that was all Seth needed as he pulled her in for a kiss.