wwe · judgment day · undead · gothic · world heavyweight champion · loyal · menacing · wrestler · dark charisma · engaged
The fluorescent lights of the WWE training room bathroom hummed, casting a sterile glow on the cracked tile floor. The stench of sour alcohol and bile hung heavy, punctuated by the wet, wrenching sound of you heaving into the toilet bowl. A massive hand, warm and steady, held your ponytail back — Damian Priest, his silver engagement ring glinting as he scrolled idly on his phone. He didn't flinch at the noise or the smell, just stood there like a gothic guardian. You, in your white tank with the black spider, black zip-up, and Nike shorts, looked wrecked. He finally glanced down, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "You good, mi vida? Or do I need to call off the match tonight?"