Hello, lovely readers!

So here we go, another story for you all to hopefully enjoy. This one is a Roman/OC story and I'm so excited to finally start writing this. My first ever WWE story was a Roman/OC one and I've done so many others since but have never returned to Roman. Then this little idea sprung to mind and I knew I had to bring that gorgeous powerhouse back.

I hope you enjoy, guys. Normal chapters will be longer than this first one, but I'm eager to finally begin.

Enjoy!

This chapter is named after 'Into The Night' by Santana

Amelia Butler's Point Of View

I did not like the dark.

I feared it like nothing else before. Its mystery, its silence, its secrets which are shrouded in its depth, it frightened me. It was unknowing, surprising and shady. There was never any happiness in the dark, only danger, fear and terrible loneliness. No-one could find you in the dark and you did not know what lurked in it.

It all stemmed back to when I was 6 years old and I fell down the stairs and broke my leg. It would have only taken a few seconds to put the light on, but I decided I wouldn't so as not to disturb anyone and continued walking to my parent's room anyway. Too bad I couldn't see my discarded rollerblades at the top of the stairs.

Three stitches and a cast is what I got. I couldn't complain though… I got four weeks off school.

But ever since then I haven't been able to trust the darkness. It wasn't the friend that I once held in high regard. It was dangerous and untrustworthy.

I did not like it and I never would, and the darkness meant the world is a scary place at night.

The darkness invites anything to happen, the emptiness allowing the mind to wonder and over-react. The night feels cold, unsafe, like anything can happen. It was easy to see why people were so afraid of the dark and as I walked through the dark Florida streets, I began to feel it too, reminded of the fear that would never leave.

My name is Amy Butler and the best word to probably describe me was fucked.

It wasn't always this way, I wasn't always this screwed. I used to have a home and a decent job, but life happens and shit happens and suddenly the world isn't as great as it used to be. I left my parents and left home after I finished college, moving from New York to Florida to make it in the big wide world. New York was too busy for me and I was a girl who adored the sunshine, so Florida seemed like a great choice to set up my life.

I got a job immediately and was able to rent an apartment. It wasn't very big but it was the best I could afford on a waitress's wage, and it was home. It was all mine and I loved it…

Until I met my boyfriend.

Jack was a dream at first. The perfect man who gave me everything that I wanted and treated me like a princess. We became attached at the hip, living in each other's pockets, loving life as a happy couple. I got rid of my little apartment and moved in with him after a few months of dating, completely besotted and in love…

Then reality hit hard and his true colors began to shine through.

We'd been together for 9 months when I discovered he dealt drugs. How he'd kept it so hidden from me, I'll never know.

But it's hard to not notice the truth when you come in after a shift at work to find your boyfriend and his buddy snorting cocaine off the living room coffee table, high as a kite. That night involved a lot of shouting, a lot of arguing and a shit tonne of anger.

And I stayed with him.

For some pathetic and stupid reason I stayed with the guy despite the fact I knew he did the hard stuff. I wasn't sure if I was still madly in love, afraid to admit the truth or simply didn't know what else to do, but I stayed with him and ignored what he did like a fucking idiot. Thing is, there's only so long you can ignore drugs.

Now I knew the truth, I saw how it consumed him, how it controlled him, how it was all he thought of morning, noon, and night. I tried to get him help but he didn't seem to want it. And then the worst happened – I lost my job. Work was drying up at the restaurant until the point where the manager had to let several of us go, me being one of those sad and sorry employees.

So no job meant no money and whilst I searched for work, any money I had saved dried up fast. We were on the last of our savings and I knew we wouldn't be able to afford our apartment before long. I considered phoning my parents but then I knew I'd have to admit the truth. I'd have to admit Jack's problems, how I'd put up with them, how my attempt to make it in the big wide world had epically failed and I just didn't want to disappoint them.

So when Jack suggested we moved in with his friend I had no choice. I still didn't have a job and our money was almost gone. So we packed our things and moved into the biggest shit hole in Florida with the biggest jackass around. Jack's friend was vile, a pure junkie who did nothing but light up 24/7. Jack was in his element of course, but the constant stench of weed could only be smelt for so long.

It meant we argued again, it meant we fought again, but this time it was so much worse. The shouting got louder, the arguing got crazier, our voices got more aggressive.

Then Jack hit me.

Square in the face, the force of his fist hitting my cheek knocking me half way across the floor. My skin burnt, the soreness overtaking my body. I looked up at him, seeing his pupils dilated, seeing how high he was, knowing once and for all that I couldn't take this anymore. This had been one step too far and I wasn't going to keep putting up with him.

So I left. I simply walked out of the disgusting pit we'd been living in and I was never going back.

And this was where I was now, wandering the dark Florida streets, nowhere to go with a throbbing cheek and a searing pain flowing through my face. I was cold, weary and tired, the second-hand smoke from being in a weed-infested room making me beyond tired. I knew I needed to get to a hospital to make sure nothing had been damaged in my face, but in that moment I didn't care. All I wanted was to go the hell to sleep and forget this past year had ever happened. I wanted to forget Jack even existed.

My feet were feeling sluggish, my mouth yawning as my eyes became heavy. I had no money on me for a motel and I definitely wasn't going back to that sorry boyfriend of mine, so I knew whatever happened I was out in the open world tonight. It wasn't fun and it wasn't ideal, but it'd do for one night.

I had a warm coat on and Florida wasn't all that cold. So as I walked I found a bench sheltered underneath a massive green tree. I wandered over to it, seeing it would do for the evening. I needed rest, especially with the way my face was feeling. So without a second thought I laid down on the wood, settle my head comfortably and closed my eyes.

The occasional rustle of the wind or a passing car would wake me up, but before long exhaustion took over to the point where no noises would disturb me, I fell completely asleep, oblivious to the world around me.

I did not like the dark

xXx

Roman Reigns's Point Of View

I loved off days from work.

Wrestling for a living really took its toll on your body, especially when I was in a ring fighting for four or five nights a week. Don't get me wrong, I fucking loved my job, but boy did I appreciate the days off. The days where I could chill, I could rest, I could relax and do whatever I wanted whilst my body recovered. And I'd landed it lucky as I'd got four days off followed by Raw in Florida.

So I could come home, rest up and really take advantage of the short time off.

It had been a few straight weeks on the road, so it was my first time back in Florida for a while. I'd spent the day freshening up my apartment, making sure it was clean and tidy. Even though I lived by myself and didn't really need it too fancy, I still didn't want to live in a pig sty.

After a day of cleaning, stocking up the fridge and washing some clothes, I'd chosen to meet a few friends at a bar in the city. It wasn't often I saw them so as soon as they heard I was home for a few days, they'd organised a couple drinks and I couldn't say no.

It was good to see my buddies, I'd missed them, and a drink or two was always welcome in my books. So we drank the night away, chatting, shooting pool and catching up.

It was just after midnight when the bar closed so we all parted ways and I began to walk home. I saw no point in getting a cab; I lived literally ten minutes from the bar so a walk home was no problem to me. It was a cool and quiet night and I knew the evening air would help sober me up from whatever alcohol was in my body. I was a big and tall guy so I didn't easily get drunk, but I still needed to wake up a little regardless.

I walked through the park near my house, the bright moon shining down to illuminate the trees and grass around me. Benches were littered here and there, the quiet coo of birds and insects creating sound in the otherwise silent surroundings.

And then I heard a cough.

It was a loud one, more of a quiet murmur.

I thought nothing of it until a sneeze swiftly followed. At that point I knew I wasn't alone. I wasn't frightened; I was over 6 foot tall and built like a tank. If anything was out there I could take it no problem. But I still wanted to be on high alert. After all I was only one guy. If it was a group of people I wasn't sure if I could handle that so easily.

But the more I walked, the sooner the owner of the noises came to light.

Across the way, lying on a park bench was a body. I was confused at first, unsure of why someone would be out here at this time of night in the park of all places. I wondered if it was some inebriated kid or if it was some homeless tramp who had set up camp for the night.

Curiosity couldn't help but get the better of me so I silently crept closer, making sure to not disturb whoever was lying there.

My eyebrows raised in surprise when I saw it was a young woman, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling softly as she slept. I looked around to see if she was with anyone but found we were the only two people in the park.

What the fuck a young woman like that was doing sleeping on a park bench I'd never know, but I knew I couldn't leave her out here. This place was dangerous enough at night for people like me. A girl like this would get eaten alive by herself. I wasn't the only person in this city who had been drinking tonight and many others would have drank gallons more than I had. She was alone, defenseless and vulnerable, and a gang of drunks would have a field day with her.

So I slowly approached her until I could touch her, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently shaking her awake.

"Hey, you okay there?" I quietly asked as I shook her from her slumber. She barely moved, still deep in sleep so I shook her shoulder a little harder. A frown slowly appeared on her sleeping face, her hand darting out to bat me away.

"Ugh," she moaned in annoyance, her body relaxing again, a light snore leaving her mouth.

I sighed.

This was going to be harder than I thought.

"Come on, sleeping beauty," I tried. "Time to wake up."

"Five more minutes," she yawned, her eyes refusing to open.

"Five more minutes?" I questioned. "You know you're on a park bench right?"

"Shhh…"

"It's far too dangerous for a young woman to be out here," I told her. "You seriously need to wake up, miss. You need to go home or wherever you came from. It's unsafe here."

"Don't care," she mumbled, rolling over until her back faced me.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration. The stupid girl didn't realise how annoying she was being. It was ridiculous for her to be out here by herself and I needed to get her somewhere safer. If I could find out where she lived I could easily put her in a cab and send her on her way.

She looked clean, her hair shiny and her clothes pristine so I knew she didn't live on the streets. She was no doubt some poor girl who had decided to have way too much to drink and had fallen asleep on her way home.

That's when I noticed her face, or more accurately, what was on her face.

A huge red and purple blotch was rising along her cheek, the injury easy to spot even in the night light. I frowned, knowing that wasn't some simple injury. Working for WWE meant I saw marks like this all the time. This girl had been hit.

Yeah… no way was I leaving her out here by herself.

I tried nudging her awake again but she was having none of it. She was asleep and that's how she was staying. No way in hell was I getting any information out of her tonight. I considered phoning Seth or Dean for advice but I knew deep down that there was only one option for tonight at least.

She needed shelter and she needed out of this park. So I took the decision to bring her back with me.

I couldn't discern whether she was drunk or not as she refused to wake up, but I knew if I could bring her back to my apartment, she'd sleep in safety and I send her home in the morning when she'd be awake and conscious.

I knew it was risky to bring an injured stranger into my home, especially considering my line of work and the fact I could have very crazy and full-on fans. But this girl seemed harmless enough.

After all, what could one girl do?

So with a deep breath I slipped one arm around her back and the other under her knees, picking her up bridal style. She shuffled a little as she slept, but she soon settled again, her breathing regulating as she continued to sleep deeply. She wasn't heavy, her body warm against mine.

"Hope you know what you're doing, Roman…" I muttered to myself as I turned on my heel and walked us back to my apartment.

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