Sorry that it has been soooo long! School and work have kind of kicked my butt :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE or the people in it.

Chapter 7

Phil finally opened his eyes after trying to fight against the light coming in from the window. Blinking furiously, he tried to focus in on the vision that had been blurred at first—the vision lying with him. His heart caught in his chest as it all came flooding back to him.

So it wasn't a dream…

There she was. The blonde beauty was the most beautiful creature on the planet, even after the night she had just endured, and she was curled up in his arms. The tattooed man had no idea what to do next. What was the next step? Should he wake her? Kick her out? Hold her? Kiss her?

The questions were coming fast and furious, so he decided to do what he did best—leave.

With the greatest care, Phil pulled his body from beneath the radiant bombshell. He then leaped silently out of the bed before immediately covering her back up with the warm sheets. Luckily for him, she didn't even move.

He began replaying everything from the night before as he changed into some workout clothes. Although it was full of drama, he did not regret his decision to help Maryse. No, what he was really worried about was her response to this situation when she awoke. As much as he hated to admit that he could have feelings for a high-maintenance drug-addicted blonde Barbie doll, he was infatuated. The last thing he wanted now was for this living fantasy to end—for Maryse to leave him and his seemingly boring lifestyle behind.

The more he thought about this, the more he couldn't stand to be in the room while he waited for her to come to. Without another thought on the subject, he picked up the nearest pen and paper on the bedside table and jotted a quick note before heading to the gym.

-Maryse-

Maryse woke suddenly from her labored sleep. Without opening her eyes, she began searching through the sheets, hunting for the source of warmth that now seemed to be missing.

Rubbing her tired, burning eyes, she sat up and leaned against the headboard. She took a second to soak in the sight around her and reboot her brain. A gasp shot out from her mouth as she began piecing together her whereabouts. As her location became clearer, so did last night's events.

The frantic search was on for her phone, knowing that there would be a mile-long list of texts, calls and voicemails from Mike. Frustrated and unable to find her phone, Maryse realized her phone wasn't the only thing missing. Pulling her knees up to her chin, Maryse could feel the tears welling up as she realized that Punk wasn't there.

He hadn't wanted to stay. She thought. Of course, why would he? Why would Phil want to stay with me after what he saw last night?

Those familiar feelings of loneliness and unwant began swirling around in her mind yet again. The disheveled and despairing blonde turned to get out of the bed, hoping to disappear from that room as fast as her feet could carry her. As she shoved off the covers and flipped her feet off the side, her eyes glanced over to the bedside table, stopping on the notepad that lay there. She wasted no time snatching the folded paper bearing her name on the front. Ripping it open, she read the words her "roommate" had left for her.

Good morning Princess,

I got up kinda early so I hopped over to the gym. Hope that's okay. Make yourself at home in my humble abode (hotel room) and I'll be back ASAP so just hang tight. I'll bring breakfast.

Phil

She could practically hear his voice as she reread the note—that voice that always comforted her. As if on cue, Maryse heard the door handle begin to jiggle and her thoughts and actions became frantic. After a split-second of worrying about her hair, makeup, position, etc., she remembered the sorry state he had left her in and realized it was probably too late for making a good impression this morning...

Resigning to this thought, the French Canadian just flopped back onto the pillows, making herself comfortable again. The door finally clicked open and Maryse could hear the rustling of what sounded like several bags. Turning back over, she saw Phil—looking frazzled and flustered—with a tray full of coffees in his hands and three paper bags on his arms.

"Oh, hey!" Phil said excitedly. "Um, I wanted to get you some breakfast. Are you hungry?"

She nodded timidly, giggling slightly as the bearded star struggled to close the door behind him.

"Well, I didn't really know how you liked your coffee…" He began, setting the large tray on the bedside table. "So I got one of each. You like one of these, right?"

At this, Maryse couldn't hold in her laughter anymore. She threw her head back and fell into a fit of giggles. Punk's face read of pure confusion, obviously worried that he had picked the wrong breakfast.

"Should I take that as a no?" He questioned hesitantly.

"No no," she choked out. "I love coffee. I just like it at its easiest—black. Sorry you had to get all of the other kinds just to hear that my order is so simple."

Now it was Phil's turn to laugh. "Well, I guess I will just have to drink the rest," he joked, opening the three bags of baked goodies. "And if you think that's funny, wait until you see all the different types of bagels I bought."

With that, Maryse realized that there was no need to worry about awkward tension from the night before. Phil made her feel completely at ease and all thoughts about last night, her appearance or any other concern, were totally washed away.

Time simply flew by as the pair sat on the bed talking, eating and laughing the morning away. Not once during their blissful morning did the man even try to bring up last night's events, or any other part of her dark past. It was a small gesture that made all the difference to Maryse. Never in her life had conversation and company come so easy for the French Canadian beauty, nor had laughs been so frequent. Every time she heard the tattooed man's voice, a wave of warmth and comfort washed over her entire body. For the first time in a long time, she was at peace.

As they hit a small lull in the conversation, Maryse took the opportunity to think about the next step—facing Mike at the show that evening. The thought of seeing him again almost made her sick to her stomach. She wasn't sure if it was too early to ask for a favor from her newest friend, but she would have to ask anyway.

"Punk?" She began hesitantly. "Can I ask you something? A favor maybe?"

Phil looked up from him second coffee and his demeanor changed slightly when he saw the worry written on her face.

"Of course, Princess," he replied. "Anything you want."

"Well, I am a little worried about going to work tonight…" She had absolutely no idea how she would explain her fear to Phil.

As if the man could read his mind, he inquired, "It's about Miz, huh?"

"Well, yes actually," Maryse murmured. "I just… I just don't want to face him today. At least not alone." She wrapped her arms around her shoulders, suddenly feeling a chill roll down her spine. Without any hesitation, Punk stripped off his jacket and threw it over her shoulders before brushing her soft blonde hair away from her flawless face.

"I am here for you, Princess. Tonight, we'll ride together and you can change and stuff in my locker room. Sound like a deal?"

With that, the smile was right back onto the woman's face. She leaned into the feel of Phil's touch before replying.

"Oui Punk, that sounds like a deal."

OK, so this one (hopefully) was a little bit lighter than the last few. I will try to update again ASAP and, as always, comment pretty please! Thanks friends.