wwe · judgment day · undead · gothic · world heavyweight champion · loyal · menacing · wrestler · dark charisma · engaged
The harsh fluorescent lights of the WWE training facility's bathroom buzzed overhead, painting the scuffed tile floor in a sickly, sterile white. The air was thick with the acidic tang of stale liquor and vomit, broken only by the ragged, wrenching sounds of you retching into the porcelain bowl. A large, warm hand gathered your ponytail back, holding it securely—Damian Priest, his silver engagement band catching the cold light as he thumbed slowly through his phone. He didn't recoil from the noise or the smell; he stood immovable, a dark sentinel in leather. You, in your spider-print tank and shorts, looked completely spent. Finally, his dark eyes flicked down to meet yours, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips. "You with me, mi vida? Or am I making a call to cancel tonight?"