AN: Sorry to false- alarm you earlier today. I know some of you got an update when there was none, but I have so many things going on at the same time, I almost posted another chapter from a different story to this one. My mistake. I will be more careful.
His mind slowly but surely began to drift back to his FCW days. Back when all Reigns and Rollins did was look at one another shyly, and then turn away. There had always been only one man for Ambrose, one colorfully tattooed, flexible, sober man. The day Punk came to FCW and wrestled him was the best day of his life. Every slight contact sent a jolt up his spine. He barely remembered to sell his moves he was so star struck. Now in just a week, he would debut at survivor series at the company of the one man that still held his heart. It was almost too good to be true.
Ambrose fell slowly into a dreamless sleep, startled as he awoke what seemed like moments later. He scrambled from the bed, folding it back into the wall just as Rollins opened the door. He looked ad Ambrose and sighed. "Good morning, princess. How does it feel not to have a bedmate that kicks?" he said, holding his legs as he slinked to the bathroom. Ambrose felt an ache in his chest so heavy it made him gasp for air. "I'd rather have someone that hurts me than no one at all." He muttered under his breath, wiping his eyes and sighing, unaware that Reigns was close enough to hear him.