P R I N C E : ♛

                          “Listen here, CHICKEN WEASEL. I didn’t ASK for ‘yer input. I know what I’m doin’ and I know what I GOTTA DO to get to the top of the FOOD CHAIN and take somethin’ I’ve DESERVED for a long time. This is a fight to the DEATH, a battle of TITANS try’na gain the GOLDEN BRASS KNUCKLE without anyone gettin’ in the way. Y’know all ‘bout that, don’cha? ‘Yer the one that INVENTED that.”

             It was no surprise that Ambrose hadn’t forgotten about the BETRAYAL from someone he would’ve risked his entire REPUTATION and LIFE for - someone that had torn a piece of his essence and let it spiral down into a CESSPOOL of filth and DECAY. He hadn’t been the same since then, every waking moment was spent lathered in SWEAT and SELF DOUBT. Had he been that FLAWED to be discarded so easily? To be REPLACED by something so materialistic? To be a mere STEPPING STONE to his accomplishments?

             Then again, here he was next to the one man that CLAIMED what was left of his sanity, almost SEEKING guidance with his architectural ways of DECIMATION. A HYPOCRITE was what Dean was at BEST, and that was putting it mildly. He had NO ROOM to talk with the schemes he had manifesting.

                                                   SIGH. BREATHE IN. BREATHE OUT.

             The biggest QUESTION of the century that Dean refused to answer each time it was asked. There were signs of HESITATION emitting from him: clenched fingers ‘pon silk sheets beneath them, CONSTANT and varied levels of pressured lip biting, and circulatory movement of his shoulders. All those signs were ones he knew Seth would recognize in the blink of an EYE, but as strange as it was, Dean had no problem disrobing his persona in front of the biggest TRAITOR he’s ever known.

             He turned around properly to face the raven haired man, one hand extending to brush along Seth’s leg that remained closest to him. Eyes ventured to take in EVERY INCH of Seth that constricted him from talking, the air in his throat tightening and nearly ASPHYXIATING him. It was like his fourth calling, the very presence of the man enough to send his mind spinning into orbit.

                          “That ain’t the POINT, a’right? ‘don’t matter if I trust y’or not. I’ll do things YOUR way if it’ll get’cha’ta shut up.”

             The underlying meaning: YES, he DID trust him, even though every part of him WARNED him not to.

              ‘   don’t care if y’didn’t ask. Gonna give you my opinion anyway.   ’    & that was the truth. Not only with the Ohioan but with everyone. His opinions were ALWAYS shared – regardless if people wanted to know them or not. It was written in his code; part of his configuration.  Ask you and shall receive even if you do not wish to.

              The cogs within his brain worked to untwist the words strung out of Dean’s mouth --- his terminology and vernacular when explaining such generally easy situations  ALWAYS caused his mind to slow down & unpuzzle the phrases. ---though after the years he had known Dean, he’s gotten it down to a fine are. & though he knows he shouldn’t : he still gets offended when people make fun of his way of explaining things. Only HE could do that. It’s what MAKES him. Part of the elaborate machine that was the reasons Seth still LOVED the man. ----Despite all Seth’d done. TOLD himself he wouldn’t. But it was inevitable, at best.

                             ‘   You’re lucky i know what you’re talkin’ about. S’a wonder people always wonder what the hell you’re babblin’ on about.  ’

                Brown eyes narrowed behind his glasses after his question was asked, knowing the little movements & ticks dean was presenting Seth with as he tried to conjure up and appropriate answer --- if there was even such a thing. He watched every little movement, knowing how much the question caused Dean to try and figure out the right words. ---- but the answer he was given was almost MORE than he has expected. USUALLY; previously --- it had always been a flat out no. Or, you wish.

                                            THIS WAS PROGRESS.

              ‘   GOOD. That’s what i like to hear. MUSIC to my ears, Dean.   ’   A satisfied smile graced bearded features at the response, shivers from the fingertips on his leg  being sent upward from the base of his spine straight to his brain at the contact. ALL contact from Dean always sent him sky rocketing. NO MATTER THE CONSEQUENCE. They could be in the middle of match, BLOW FOR BLOW – pressure connecting with what felt like bones cracking:  and the contact from Dean would always warrant the same response.  He shifted closer, wincing slightly as his hand manoeuvred his bum knee into a better position, seth’s eyes locked onto the Ohioan’s.

                          “Y’know how DIRTY your ass gets by the time I’m done screwin’ ‘ya sideways? Y’don’t see me complainin’, RIGHT? So keep ‘yer trap shut ‘fore I go ahead and make you miss ANOTHER nine months of wrestling.”

             A harmless THREAT that held no true danger. Truth be told: Dean Ambrose LONG missed the Iowan’s presence inside the squared circle, a sanctuary he considered HOME. It was a stairway to the HEAVEN Dean would never get to embrace completely ; Seth’s lack of appearance was just making him feel hollow inside, even if their RELATIONSHIP was poisonous to not only himself but to his very SOUL.

             Shrugging off his jacket, the Cincinnati native started to make himself comfortable on the edge of a HUGE mattress, one he often shared with the younger man during his DAYS of solace. Nothing else existed except for his SOULMATE. Everything was just a DISTRACTION to his objectives and life sentence of PAIN, SELF DESTRUCTION, and ACCOMPLISHMENTS.

                         “’Yer talkin’ to someone who’s DOUBLE CROSSED everyone in his LIFE. By everyone, I mean EVERYONE. I’un need people watchin’ out for me. AT WHAT COST? To gain a WEAKNESS? To be some kind’a insolent jackass trying to gain some sort of attention? ALL FOR WHAT?”

            A roll of his eyes followed suit. Perhaps not EVERYONE, but Ambrose was NO STRANGER for his tactics that were questionable. He was always fond of catching people off guard, especially when it came to showing his true colors of deceit and sadism.

              Kicking off his shoes, he purposely threw them towards a RANDOMLY placed area of the room, followed by his shirt being discarded. Already making himself COMFORTABLE without a single care of the consequences or Seth’s intolerable rants.

                         “Y’know, maybe y’were right about ONE THING, but I’ve got m’ways of gettin’ what I want. Y’stick to ‘yer tactics, and I’ll latch onto my own guns, HOT SHOT. I’ve GOT THIS. You go chargin’ head first with a PLAN all the time, but I don’t. I ain’t the kind’a guy to have a plan up m’sleeve cause shit ALWAYS goes south. When you IMPROVISE, y’got nothin’ to LOSE.”

                     It was a half attempt at a chuckle, in the form of a response --- fingers pushing fallen lenses higher upon his nose as the younger male sat up against the headboard of his bed. By NOW --- seth’d learned to take threats such as those with nothing but a grain of salt. But brow, curious eyes continued to watch as the leather which decorated his body in the form of a jacket was removed. Now, Seth had seen the man topless a PLETHORA of times --- but even just seeing the muscular tanned arms of the other male NEVER failed to impress him. 

                          ‘     EVERYONE   ?     I could name a handful that you’ve yet to double cross, Deano.  ’  One samoan in particular. THOUGH he knew it was still very much a work in progress --- He wouldn’t let up on the subject.    ‘   do I need to write them all down? SPELL IT OUT.   ’

                    ‘  ------ As for weaknesses? YOU GOT TOO MANY. Despite popular belief; you’re not such the lone wolf that people seem to THINK of you as. You often forget how LONG i’ve known you.  ’  How well i’ve studied you. How well i know all your ins and outs. ups and downs. His body was quick to shift forward just a small amount, hands helping to shift his still injured knee. he wanted to be closer. needed to be closer. It was still very much so treacherous ground that he was stepping on ---- an IMPENDING DOOM only one wrong footfall away. 

                         ‘   A PLAN always works. Then you have time to think about the CONSEQUENCES. The variables, Dean. PLAN how to work around bumps, any UNWANTED interruptions. When you go head first like a bull at a gate like you do? You leave yourself with so many bad VARIABLES.    Success isn’t a GURANTEE.   Barely even a 40% chance rate of succession. LISTEN TO ME. && you will succeed. Wasn’t labelled as the ARCHITECT for years for no reason, Ambrose. YOU KNOW THIS.    ’

                        A huff was left from the explanation he felt like he’d given one million times before to his soulmate ---- but at times? It was like talking to a brick wall. NOTHING would change his mind ----- but he was persistent. SETH just didn’t give up as easily as people liked him to. 

             FastLane would PROVE to be another MONUMENTAL moment that would define his career ; the AMBROSE ASYLUM was still running strong with the strength of his internal FIENDS providing him the necessary offense for the collision over the horizon. At first, mere POKES awakened a near dormant MONSTER that he lulled to hibernation every night, but NOW ? He made ALLIES with those who knocked on his doorsteps.

                                                   One of them being the one who’s                                                     home he was WALTZING right into.

             He didn’t even need to KNOCK his door ; picking LOCKS had become a PASS TIME since the days of his youth, coming in and out as he PLEASED. Dean frequented this particular vicinity to CHECK on the former two-tone’s physical STATUS and play a little TONSIL HOCKEY ( no one could deny him entry, not even if they tried ), but right now, this little VISIT was a result of the events that caused TURBULENCE in his soul.

             Twilight was upon the ROLLINS residence, obsidian cloaked figure in his signature HOODIE desaturating the room Seth inhabited. Every time he came in here, he’d remember the SWEET SINS produced by sweat-filled bodies, labored breathing, and tangled feet that wrote AGONY and LUST all over the mattress. NOTHING, not even sweet VICTORY, could compare to the TOXIC desires he had for the younger man.

                                                                 He grew to HATE.                                                                  Hated to L O V E.

                                       That was the EPITOME of being a soulmate.

                         “Y’know what’s DEPRESSIN’? The fact that I still don’t got a FUCKIN’ key to ‘yer house when I practically LIVE here. I’m gettin’ tired’uv’breakin’ in and runnin’ the RISK of gettin’ the cops called on me. ‘know how many times that neighbor of ‘yers has been givin’ me THAT funny look that says LOOKS CAN KILL?”

                    He knew it was only minutes --- moments, seconds. WHATEVER.  Before the inevitable was to happen --- before there was that all too distinguishable click click click of seth’s lock being worked open. Knew that once again there was only going to be CENTIMETERS between their faces --- his scent, breath, every little fragment of messy hair would be all too visible behind the lenses of the IOWAN.  

                       Even though seth knew roughly what time, (when he says roughly he means he’s got it down to the minute) dean was to be strolling on into his room. his residence. his PROPERTY. && for those moments that dean spent inside the newfound SANCTUARY of the injured man --- he felt as though DEAN was his property, too.

                     Such selfish acts ---                      though he was a self proclaimed sinner. 

THOUGH STILL ----- despite being on the metaphorical bench for another THREE MONTHS; he was still always thinking. Always PLOTTING. In fact? now that he had more time up his sleeve -- he let his brain flourish with ideas. Dean’s impending future being ONE of those said plans.

He’d planted the seed long ago. All he needed was to help it BLOOM. ----- but with the night events on RAW?        Seth was starting to think Dean would blossom all on HIS OWN.         Like     he    should    of.

          ‘      YOU know what else is ‘depressing’? ---- YOUR UNPREDICTABILITY. Remind me to teach you some tricks to the trade of a DOUBLE CROSS --- could see you about to slam Roman into the mat MINUTES before it even crossed your mind.      ’    

It was a lie --- said only in hopes to POKE the beast within the man, give it just that EXTRA push now and then. In hopes to seal the deal with the proverbial DEVIL, he claimed to be. 

@opportvniist !!

               smirking, roman feels rather pleased with himself. he managed to                     get the things seth wanted and then some. practically everything                     the former champ wanted was to be found at the HARDWARE                     STORE. the employees probably assumed he was working on                     house repairs or something — but no, it was only for seth to                CONSTRUCT whatever plan he had in his head. but then roman                      also went to a certain store in the mall for little extra surprise. 

               so now roman is entering the house, dropping the bag from the                     hardware store on the counter and holding up a much smaller, pink                     bag with a raised brow towards the man on the couch.                                                          “happy valentines day, brat.”

                      He’d been expecting Roman  any minute now, brows raised accompanied by a devious smirk when he heard the clicking of the door lock followed by the small creak of the door itself opening. It looked like he had gotten everything – which was excellent. But his eyes went directly to the pink baggie, head cocking to the side with an almost perplexed look gracing softly bearded features.

“Guess I’ll… think about it. Gotta think ‘bout how that  shit knee of yours might affect my DEVIL SPAWN  children, see.”

               no, he can’t. hence the silence and his gaze falling to the various sheets of paper littering the man’s desk. all he can think about is football — he’s counting on that to get into college. he HAS to pass this class. no matter what.

               glancing back up, joe adjusts the bag on his shoulder with a sigh. “after school..?” he had practice today. but he could just tell coach he’d be a little late. he’s understand. slowly, the student nods and taps his fingers on colby’s desk. “yeah. i can do that. today, right? i mean, the sooner the better.” to help persuade mr. lopez, joe offers his best attempt at puppy dog eyes, “please?”

                  He could practically feel the hesitation in the young man’s response, one brow quipped as a tentative smile spread across the breadth of his bearded face. Arms were folded over a toned chest as he sat back just a little further into his office chair, glasses being pushed higher onto the bridge of his nose before he was to speak. 

               this class was just hard. so many dates and people and events to remember — he could barely remember his families birthdays. it’s making his head hurt and by the time it becomes too much, joe has already zoned out, eyes focused on mr. lopez’s mouth. it was like he was underwater, the sound not quite reaching his ears clearly. the only thing that snaps him out of it is the bell RINGING and kids shuffling to get out of the class and go home. at least the most difficult was his last class.

               joe remains seated for a moment, rubbing at his forehead before cramming his things into his book bag and standing up, walking to the teachers desk with his head tilted and his lips pursed. “hey, uh, mr. lopez? i might’a…zoned out there towards the end. it’s just a lot to remember and..i dunno, could ya TUTOR me or somethin’? i’m barely makin’ a B in your class..”

                              To say he’d been watching the way the football player had been zoning in and out continuously in his class wasn’t a stretch from the truth at ALL. he would be halfway through explaining a point when eyes were flashing across his student & ALWAYS found themselves landing on Joe. Though he was surprised, to say the least, when the young man came to him asking for help. That was something he wasn’t expecting.