Rampaige. [Editing]

Lovesick Boy

PAIGE POV-

The WWE has just wrapped up another edition of Raw. The production trucks are loading up as fast as we got settled down. This is how it all operates.

My part in the show was within the 2nd hour, a short under 2 minute promo about how I'm ready for whoever wants to take me on.

I wasn't as messed up as I was.

Although that kiss was amazing. But I doubt that he felt the same. He probably just felt bad..

And, I bet I was really stinking up the room, the whole apartment to be exact.

I hope he doesn't bring it up if I see him.

Anyways, almost every detail in the time on television has completely escaped my mind.

When I'm on "RamPaige" mode, I'm focused to the bone because I'm not forced to think about anything else.

When my face leaves the screen I'm back to Saraya and the deep thoughts come flooding in again. It's similar to my mind going, 'Oh yeah, that happened to me didn't it? Let's go think about it again!'

Except this time, not so enthusiastic. More personally, life changing.

I'm numb.

I'm emotionally drained.

I'm confused as to where my love life has gone, and realize that it can never go back to where it was.

Changed into normal clothes, I head to the parking lot. With bag over my shoulder, I'm trying to lay low. Of course, no one would be looking for me anyway.

Except for him probably.

Punk is waiting, standing against a tall pillar on the way out of the arena. His head is tilted back and staring at me with such a plain expression. It's melancholy, like a look you'd see after someone has just finished crying their eyes out.

"Paige..." I barely hear him. He doesn't move as I approach.

All I want to do is disappear into his arms, to take myself away from the stress.

It's coincidental because he was the one who gave me it in the first place. My body hops and crashes into his chest, reinforcing support for me. I drop the bag behind. My source of strength at this moment is him.

I can feel his arms wrap around my upper back. After the long day, in this dark night, nothing matters to me. He's capable of doing this too often. I hate him for it, and I love him for it.

I love him.

Finally, Punk breaks the dry silence, "Paige, tell me what to do next..."

I don't leave his embrace and speak in to his left chest, "You have to tell her, Phil."

"I don't want to hurt her."

"You would've hurt her eventually..."

He sighs, chest heaving in and out, "I know."

"Punk, am I really worth this?"

This question slips out too quickly for me to return.

Still attached by an embrace, I wait anxiously against his body for the answer. He rests his chin on the top of my head.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life. For me to say I've felt like this before would be a lie. You bring out a version of myself I haven't seen in a while."

"Which is that?"

"The lovesick boy who wants nothing except love from the person he can't stop thinking about."

I'm weak at the knees, subtly adding more weight against his frame than I would like. The remains of my heart has melted.

How is that I make him feel this way? What's so special about me?

Punk shifts forward and stands upright, parting away from my body, "Wanna get out of here?"

Like a child, I nod.

He picks up my bag and tows his own. He begins to walk in the other direction as I follow.

June 3: Cincinnati, OH

PAIGE POV-

The drive to the next city was really short. Too bad I was busy drifting in and out of broken sleep to keep a conversation with Punk. Just about two and half hours later, we check in to the hotel we'll be staying in for the night. Emma is probably in her room, about to knock out. We make our way to my room as he's still carrying my bag for me.

"Here's your stop, kid." He says quietly.

"Thank you, Phil. For everything."

We stand in the middle of the hallway, the yellow orange lights above us are a little dimmed. He smiles, but he's just as tired as I am.

I go in for another hug, just to feel him again. The way we fit is perfect. I wish we could be in each other's arms all the time.

"Punk?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I stay in your room tonight?"

He's taken aback at my request, but happily replies, "If that's what you want to do, April is back in New Jersey visiting her family..."

"Good. I need someone... just this once. I promise."

These impulses are spat out by this lingering energy inside me.

I've always hated feeling isolated. When I became part of the main roster on Raw, I had to go through that a few times.

"Then let's go. I guess this means I have keep to carrying your bag?" He chuckles.

He begins walking to the end of the hall. I follow him again.

Once we reach the room, a wave of exhaustion hits. The sight of a bed makes it difficult for my eyes to stay open, full knowingly that the mattress is my only escape from this tired feeling. Punk closes the door behind us.

I collapse onto the thick bed, making a noise full of exhaustion.

Eyes closed, heartbeat slowed, I drift...

PUNK POV-

Great. There's only one bed in this room and Paige is spread all over it like butter on toast. I drop our bags on the floor before the restroom and make a way over to the side she's facing.

Slowly, I sit on the edge.

My hand lifts to move a strand away from her face, "Sweet dreams, Paige."

She manages a slight groan.

"I love you." I say before she completely falls asleep.

An extended murmur comes out of her mouth and I know she said she loved me too.

With that I get ready for bed, fixing up things so they're good to go in the morning.

I've adapted to this schedule of restless nights over a course of a few years so I understand the type of tired Paige is.

I gently push her body parts to remain on the right side as I settle on the left. The last thing I do is turn off the lamp before joining her at Slumberslam.

Punk, you're hilarious...