Sanctuary

Chapter Seven - Tension.

Tension noun

2. mental or emotional strain.

(Manip picture on the side of Dean/Anna and Roman/Blake - made by me! It'll make sense as you read on! :) )

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I walked in the hotel room and wasted no time trashing it. The first thing I did was hurl my duffel bag at the wall before I flipped on an end table, breaking a lamp in the process. From there I went on a rampage.

I'm not even sure of what I had destroyed or just how much I had shouted cursing words about Anna but after shattering the large mirror above the bed - I'd finally let off enough steam to where I could breathe.

My fists slowly unclenched themselves and my eyelids peeled back, I didn't cry this time. I was more angry than emotional. When I surveyed the damage I knew it was a miracle that I didn't hurt myself in the process.

Although I'd never rule that out.

I slumped to the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed and dropped my head into my palms.

I glanced up at the remaining piece of glass in the ceiling - it was just enough to see my entire face. My frustrated yet now calmed features rested and in a way pouted for a cigarette. I grabbed my smokes from my pocket and popped one in my mouth.

What a great night. I'd ran off and got myself suspended just six days before my chance to reclaim my title.

I'd done it this time.

Cupping my hand around my cigarette I lit it up and puffed twice before exhaling towards the ceiling. The smoke forming a cloud that actually stayed for a moment before I waved it away.

I knew I'd have to call my dad and tell him that there was no need to fly to Chicago to see me win. I just needed a moment to do so because if I grabbed my phone now I'd call Corporate and get myself fired.

I laid there - chain smoking through four cigarettes peacefully until a tap made me sit straight up. Looking behind me I saw Dolph climbing over the railing to my balcony.

"What the hell?" I stood up and walked over pulling the sliding door open. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"If it meant getting to see you one last time," He grunted as he finally fell over with unf. "Then sure I'm being suicidal,"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I'm fifteen floors up."

"So you definitely owe me some type of sexual favor." He smirked and I kicked him, causing him to groan. "Okay, okay I'll just settle for some Melon Bodywash."

I grabbed his arm helping him up and dragged him into the room. "You shouldn't be playing Spiderman like this in New York."

"I've learned my lesson believe me. I don't think I've had an arm workout like this in years." His eyes widened as he stepped on a piece of shattered glass and he looked around in disbelief. "Again?!"

"Yeah..."

"You can't go around trashing hotel rooms like its nothing! The McMahons are going to kill you!"

"I don't care what they do to me." I told him as I sat him gently on the bed. "They already suspended me."

"They what?!"

I nodded as I sat on the opposite bed.

"Is that why you wouldn't answer my calls?"

"I was pretty pissed."

He sighed and got up, plopping next to me and flinging his arm around my shoulder. "It's alright, chulo. They don't know what they're missing. You could've damn well been the match of the night."