a/n in all honesty, I thought this chapter was a bit further away... I guess not! Thanks to Kennedy's Friday Night Delight, Neurotic-Idealist, Sonib89 and xHalosandwings for reviewing! You all make my day!

The Last Unbroken Hart;

By AliceJericho

Chapter 12: White Flag

"The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly than even the final surrender; because this kiss already has within it that surrender." – Emil Ludwig

February, Monday 1

I zipped up my jacket and hugged it to my body, cursing myself for not wearing more layers. I had spent a week away from the WWE and already forgot how cold backstage tended to be.

"Want someone to warm you up?" came a suave voice. I turned around and saw a rather large man in a suit and aviator glasses. He took the glasses of his face and held out his hand, "I'm Dave Batista." Also known as the man Gail and Eve had warned me about.

"Laura," I smiled politely and gave him my hand, expecting him to shake it. He turned it over, kissing it.

"Enchanté." Definite ladies man, he had seduced every Diva in the locker room, and it honestly didn't surprise me, "You should be a Diva, you definitely look the part, and with Hart blood you'd probably be better than most of the glorified arm candy without even trying." What a charmer, full of compliments.

"It's not really my thing."

"What a shame, hiding this perfect body from the world." He really did lay it on thick.

"Laura, I need you for a minute." Matt intruded on our conversation.

"It can't wait, Korklan." Dave growled, "We're busy."

"I need her now." Matt said defiantly,

"Korklan, I'm talking to the girl, whatever you want can wait." Dave was oozing power. He was a senior man in this company, and Matt was disrespecting him.

"Matt." I scolded under my breath.

"She's not interested." Matt stated, going to take my arm.

"I she your girlfriend, Korklan?" he shook his head. The way Dave said 'Korklan', was as a threat, it showed him that this respect was one way, and that's how it was supposed to be, "You sleeping with her?" again, Matt shook his head, "Then fuck off. This ain't none of your business." Dave growled, showing his authority. Matt trudged off begrudgingly. "What do you say, babe? You and me should go out tonight." Thank god for rule two, part one.

"I'm flattered, Dave, but I'm going to have to decline." The cockiness did not fade from his aura,

"If you change your mind." He winked and walked off. I followed the path taken by Matt and saw him sitting on a crate, fiddling with a roll of tape.

"You shouldn't have said anything," I sat beside him, "I know things haven't changed much, you're going to get hell for disrespecting him."

"He doesn't deserve respect. He's a good for nothing pig." Matt snarled, I had never seen this side of him before, "Every Diva in this, and Smackdown's, locker room has been in his bed. It's disgusting."

"Thank you," I said softly, touching his arm, "For looking out for me."

Matt Korklan's Perspective

"Matt, I need to speak to you." Paul sounded unsure, but his face did not give off this same impressions. I excused myself from the table that sat at with Mark Henry, Gail Kim and Eve Torres. Laura had left to speak with her father awhile ago, "Dave tells me that you disrespected him." Of course he goes to Paul.

"It may have happened." I said coyly, not really caring, Dave didn't deserve any respect.

"I don't want to, alright? He came to me expecting something. He didn't tell me what happened, means he's ashamed." I nodded, "If you want to tell me, I might go easier on you."

"I was outta line," I said with a shrug, "Let's get this over with." We walked into the locker room belonging to Paul and Shawn. Shawn was nowhere to be seen, but his daughter, Sunday, sat in Cody's arms on the couch, John Cena was talking to them.

"One thousand squats." Paul said as pulled me to stand beside him.

"A thousand?"

"I'll do them with ya," we started doing the squats, I could hear Sunday laughing.

At around two hundred, Laura entered.

"Paul, why does this look like the Hart Dungeon?" she asked with a slight laugh,

"Straight from the books of Chris Benoit." He stated,

"Which is where he got it from." She froze for a minute, and then spoke, "I need to speak to you Paul, please." She added. She was doing what I had, but she wouldn't have to do one thousand squats.

"Is it important?" he asked her and she nodded, she looked at me with a small smile, "John, take over. Two hundred and thirty five." They exited the room, and John started speaking to me,

"What did ya do man? You should know better than to say anything to Dave, you've always been a good kid." Guilt trip. How fun.

"It doesn't matter. I did the wrong thing."

"Whatever it is, you better hope that Laura is getting you out of it, or you won't be moving for three days. But you'll have to do five hundred more tomorrow." I glared at the wall in front of me, trying to block out Sunday's laughter.

Laura Hart's Perspective

"Is it important?" Paul asked, and I nodded. He told John to take his place, and followed me out of the room.

"How many does he have to do?"

"One thousand, then five hundred more tomorrow. It'd probably be less, but he won't tell me what happened. Dave was quiet about it too; Matt probably didn't do anything totally wrong."

"He didn't. Dave, to put it simply, tried to pick me up."

"He put his hands on you?" Paul got angry, clearly pissed off that Dave had done such a thing.

"No! Well, he kissed the back of my hand... but 'pick me up' as in 'hit on me'." I explained, and he relaxed, only slightly.

"Which is why he didn't tell me. He had no right to do that."

"I want you to just make Matt do five hundred now, five hundred tomorrow. He was only trying to help me." Paul nodded and we walked back into the locker room.

"How many have you done?"

"Four seventy five." John answered as Paul swapped places with him.

"Make it twenty five more. I want to get back." Sunday stood up in protest,

"Uh, no. He was disrespectful! One thousand!"

"Sunday! I'll give you a thousand if you keep talking." Paul threatened and the blonde left in a huff.

I had left the hotel as soon as Paul revealed that Matt only had to do five hundred squats. I showered quickly and went to bed, hoping that Matt would enter quietly. While he had tried, I am a light sleeper and woke once the door opened.

I sat up in the bed, watching as he sat on his bed and started to undress, "Matt? Are you okay?" I asked quietly, trying not to scare him.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He undid the buttons of his black dress shirt and taking it off, draping it over the back of a chair. He then grabbed his bed clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Thank you, again. For looking out for me. It means a lot." I told his as he got into his bed.

"It was nothing."

Tuesday, February 2

Matt was nowhere to be found when I woke up the next morning, but there was a newspaper on the table. I sat on the chair and picked it up, reading the front page. It was Monday's paper, but I had not read that yet, so I continued. I read for half an hour before I started to get a headache. It was a little known fact that I was supposed to wear reading glasses. I hated them. I had a habit of 'forgetting' them. Or sitting on them... Anything to get out of wearing them.

However, I was interested in the article I was reading. I spotted Matt's glasses on his bedside table. I put them on and continued reading, they were the perfect strength. I was so engrossed in the article, that I didn't notice Matt had returned to the room. My head shot up and I pulled off the glasses like they were burning my skin.

"Good morning," he said in a slightly confused tone, "Don't let me interrupt you." He seemed to be in a much better mood.

"I was done." I was actually three quarters of the way through it.

"Don't be embarrassed by wearing glasses." He sat in the other seat, pushing a Starbucks' coffee and croissant my way.

"I'm not." I bit back, a bit harsher than I had intended.

"Then put them back on." He said light heartedly,

"I look bad in glasses." I mumbled and he laughed.

"You could never look bad, put them back on." He pushed them in my direction. I shook my head, "Close your eyes then. Go on." He prompted when I hesitated. I heard his seat move and soon after felt his presence in front of me.

He slipped the glasses onto my face gently. I opened my eyes but he was still right in front of me. "Keep them closed." I obliged, and was seriously shocked at his next actions.

I felt his lips on mine; the kiss was soft, but definitely deliberate.

"You're always beautiful."