She's A Strange One // Dean Ambrose

Four

Marissa's POV

Sitting cross-legged on my hotel bed at 5:30AM wasn't exactly how I'd planned my day. I thought of texting Dean, but then I realised I had given him my number, so I couldn't.

Although it was nice to sit here with some quiet and just think. The sun was just rising, and the sky had turned a beautiful golden orange colour. I stood from the bed, went over to the curtains and slowly pulled them open.

It was hard, but I managed to perch myself up on the window ledge and lean myself against the window. As I was only wearing shorts and a tank top, the glass was cold against my skin. It was nice. I sat there for what seemed centuries with my eyes closed. After a while, a soft knock echoed throughout the room.

I glanced over at the clock. 6:20AM. Who on earth would be awake at the time of the morning? Actually I suppose a lot of the wrestlers would be, to train and such. I hopped off of my makeshift seat and padded over to the door. I opened it slightly and poked my head round it. Once I saw who it was, I opened it more.

"Firstly, how did you know which room was mine? And secondly, why are you here at" I glanced over at the clock again "6:23 in the morning?"

He sighed before answering. "I saw you coming in here last night. I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep so I thought I should come see my favourite Diva" I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever, Dean. I suppose you could come in" I stepped aside to let him in, noticing he was dressed in jeans and a black vest, pretty much his ring gear. I suddenly felt very self conscious of my childish-like, pale pink shorts and pajama tank top that had 'bee happy' with a bee on the front.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting guests" I said sarcastically, motioning to my outfit.

He nodded and sat down in a chair. "I noticed" I stuck my tongue out at him and jumped back down onto the bed. "Tell me about yourself" He said suddenly.

The question startled me. Not because of the person who asked it, I knew I could trust Dean. I just didn't know what to respond with.

"What do you want to know?" I asked slowly. There was heaps of things I could tell him, but most of it I had tried so desperately to forget.

"Birthday, Age, things you like, things you hate, y'know" I breathed out in relief. Just basic things.

"Okay, I was born on the 22nd March 1989 in Cambridge, England. I like the colour green, I also like hotdogs" I stopped to think. "I don't like owls. The way they twist their heads is down right creepy" I looked at Dean and he was silently laughing at me.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"Nothing, nothing"

"Okay then, what about you?" I asked him.

"I was introduced to this shitty world on the 7th December 1985" He told me and I giggled. "I'm from Ohio, Cincinnati to be exact. I don't like Raccoons, umm, I once tore my nipple off and then sewed it back on by myself"

"You should've left it off, nipples are useless to men" I laughed. Dean nodded.

"Why do men even have them if we can't do anything with them?"

"It's because everyone started out as a female, then you guys developed willies but you got stuck with nips"

"Willies?" He laughed.

"Penis." I said bluntly. Then burst out laughing. "Why do people call you a lunatic?" I asked, curious.

Dean's POV

"Why do people call you a lunatic?" Marissa asked, curiously. I shrugged.

"I did some pretty... wild things when I wrestled as Jon Moxley. I guess that's where it came from" I answered.

"So you're not fucked up in the head? Like me?" She asked, tilting her head a little.

I didn't really know what to reply to that so I just nodded. "How are you crazy?" I asked. She's always saying stuff about her head and the fact she's crazy.

I saw her hesitate before she spoke. "I don't think you want to know" She laughed nervously.

"You don't want to tell me do you?" I already knew the answer. She looked up at me with her big eyes and shook her head. To my surprise, I got up and sat next to her than draped my arm across her shoulders. I felt her tense, but she didn't move away. I didn't know why I was doing this. It felt... right? I didn't know how to explain it.

"I don't know what you've been through, and I don't know if it compares to mine or not, but I didn't have it easy either" I told her. She finally relaxed and looked up at me to carry on.

"My mom was taken by the drugs, my dad was taken by the cops. All I had was my little cousin, then she was taken too. I had nothing, that's why wrestling means so much to me" I honestly had no clue why I was telling my life story to a girl I barely knew. But it felt right. It really did.

"I have nothing either" She said suddenly. She looked at me, her piercingly blue eyes stared back into mine. "Can I trust you?" She asked.

"Of course" I assumed what she was about to tell me hadn't been told to many people before. She took a deep breath and moved out of my grip, she turned to look at me.

Marissa's POV

Are you sure about this? You're gonna tell him everything?

Why am I doing this? I shouldn't be doing this. I hardly know Dean, yet I trust him with my life. I don't know why.

"In England, My family and I lived right on the edge of a forest. It was my mum, dad, me and my two sisters. My dad like to chop wood for our fire and stuff so we had a shed full of axes" I felt like I was going into way too much detail, but I've started so I'll finish.

"I was 15, everything was fine. We all went to bed. My room was in the attic because space was limited so my sisters shared a room. Anyway, I was woken up by screams coming from downstairs. By the time I plucked up the courage to go investigate it had all happened. My sisters were dead, my parents were dead. I found a bloody axe in the hallway so I picked it up to look at it. Then the police arrived. And trust me when I say, it doesn't look exactly innocent when you're holding a bloody axe and your entire family had been murdered"

"They thought you killed them, didn't they?" Dean breathed. I nodded and carried on.

"For some reason unknown to me, they sent me to a mental facility somewhere in America. I don't know why they didn't put me in prison but whatever. Being in there for 5 years made me even more insane than I was before I was admitted" I laughed and looked up at Dean. His expression wasn't what I thought it would be. I was expecting surprise, maybe pure shock. But he just looked amused.

"Everyone was convinced I killed my family. When I finally left, they changed my name" I smirked at Dean and held my hand to shake his. He shook it slowly.

"Esme Clearwater" I introduced myself.

"Jonathan Good" He smirked back.

I raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't have you down as a Jonathan" I said.

"You don't look like an Esme" He chuckled.

"What do I look like?"

"A psycho-killer" He smirked.

"Very funny. Doesn't it repulse you? The fact that I could be down right lying and I could've killed my entire family?"

"No" Okay then. "I find it quite hot actually"

"You're unbelievable" I laughed.

Dean's POV

I wasn't expecting what she told me. I was waiting for something along the lines of she'd been abused as a child or something, not a teenager who went to an asylum.

If anything, it intrigued me more. I could feel myself getting more attracted to her each time I saw her. Attracted? No way. I looked at Maris- Esme; she was biting her nails and them spitting them out. I was without a doubt, falling for Esme Clearwater.