Bleeding Red (CM Punk WWE)

Thirty-Six- Change Pt.1

He paced between the small space from the door to the wall what felt like a million times. Before finally sitting for the hundredth time in the plastic chair beside the bed where Dahlia lay, unmoving. He stared at her felt his upper lip begin to tremble before he stiffened it. She looked perfect there, her wavy dark brown her fanned around her, her beautiful brown eyes shut peacefully, her light sprinkle of freckles across her nose giving him butterflies. Even her perfect pink bow of a mouth seemed to be turned up in a pleasant smile. She was a vision, he reached out to stroke her face but quickly retracted his hand when one of the machines beeped loudly startling him. He sighed before slumping in the chair. She's going to be ok, he told himself quietly, hoping that it was true. He was tired, 3 hours in the emergency room, 3 hours of him raising hell until they threatened to kick him out, 3 hours of watching her suffer, of watching her whimper every time she coughed in fear that she'd find blood in her tissue. But finally she was called in, she was put in a room. She was asleep, she was calm, everything should have been ok. But yet for the past 3 hours that they had been in the room he could not seem to relax. His lids were heavy with lack of sleep but he couldn't bring himself to shut his eyes, he don't dare. He would not for anything in the world lose a moment he had with Dahl, now he realized he never knew which second with her could be his last. He did not want to miss a thing for something as petty as sleep. Instead he continued to watch her as she slept, finding comfort in the way her chest slowly rose and fell with each soft breath that she took.
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"Jon." He heard a soft voice sing as he felt a soft poke on his cheek. "Jonnnnn" she continued to sing. He could feel her small hands softly patting his face, "Jonathaaaaaan" she teased, placing a small peck on his nose then his lips. He could now feel her other hand traveling down his chest, going past his stomach before slipping into his shorts. He sat up with a slight moan as she giggled mischievously planting several more soft kisses all over his face.

"Don't call me that" he managed to moan, as her hand explored beneath his shorts. She pulled away slowly, slightly pouting. Her brown eyes teasing,

"Don't be such a drag Jonathan" she purred, he shifted beneath her,

"Don't" he repeated,

"Fine" she sighed and retracted her hand before falling back on the bed her hair fanning around her. He hadn't noticed it until now. He picked up a strand and looked at her slightly irritated

"What. Did. You. Do. With. Your. Hair." He asked slowly, she looks at him amused.

"I dyed it, do you like it?" She asked, "it looks a lot like yours" she mused as she sat up and held a strand out next to his head. He pulled away,

"No. No I don't like it." His voice tensed.

"What?! Why not?!" She glared,

"I didn't say you could dye your-"

"Didn't say I could?!" She cut him off, "Excuse me?! Since when do you own me?!" She shrieked, he looked at her amused,

"I don't maybe since I pay for the apartment you live in, the food you eat, the car you drive, hell I bet you used MY money to get your hair done."

"You don't own me Moxley." Her voice broke, "you said you did that all for me because you cared about me. Because you didn't want me on the street selling myself anymore, I thought you were telling the truth..." She sniffled, he said nothing. "Well I see that was all lies then. You just said that to get me all to yourself, you wanted a live in sex toy? Well screw you!" She hopped off the bed, Jon pulled her back.