#DeanAmbroseFanfic Chapter1 love truelove adoration

[wildspiritsfanfic-blog]

Chapter 1

"Ma, hang up because I can't hear you over this goddamn phone," Krystal shrieked over the muttering and clattering of the crowd as she continued, "I'll call you later. WWE Superstars are just coming for the signings before the event starts!" As soon as Krystal threw her mobile into her purse, the cheers got higher, fierce and inevitably loud. It was Dean Ambrose vs. AJ Styles for the WWE World Heavyweight Championship. As the Lunatic Fringe came running down the ramp, people raised their persons from the chairs in honor, capturing numerous every-angle pictures. "I want a kiss, love," some stupid stubbornness-stricken fan-girls shouted while the cacophony was joined by wishes and hellos'. Everyone in WWE was equally appreciable, but for Krystal, Dean Ambrose provided an exception. She wasn't just a dumbass fan-girl like every other girl in San Diego was; she didn't want a good sex from Dean; she didn't want just a signature of him; she didn't want just a kiss or a 'DA' tattoo printed on either of her boobs. All she craved for was him; whether it be just a glimpse of his scrumptious face or seeing him smiling, shining, and standing on top of the world: evidently both. Albeit she knew she couldn't get him all to herself, she prayed. She prayed for a miracle, that maybe, maybe an ocean's wave would change its course and bring the Northern coolness in her life, that she won't be left desolate like the Fiji Islands of the Pacific. It is said: "A man can live without food for three months, without water for three days, without air for three minutes, but without 'hope', he cannot even live three seconds." And it was 'hope' by which she lived. Standing in the middle of the crowd; the shrieks and shouts, the ear-smacking cheers and heavenly moments of elation, she stood silent, sensing, observing her love who was walking down the ramp, laughing oh-so-sinfully-good, signing girl T-shirts and arms and naked backs and what not! Her inclination filled with desires, seized her indignation filled with a little jealousy. It's ok. Let him kiss. Let him love. It's his culture that allows; his heart that desires. What matters is his smile to me. God, please always keep him happy, smiling forever. And laden my shoulders with his sins, so that he may remain free from repentance. Now, seeing him happy, seeing the respect and grace, seeing people bowing in front of him made her feel gratified; relieved. This was what she wanted. Tears of ecstasy volumized her eyes and fled down her cheeks. While she quickly pinched them off her cheek, her gaze caught Dean's who was signing the neck of a fan-girl standing beside Krystal. Keeping his constant gaze on her, he turned to sign her too. "Madam, would you like an autograph?" Dean asked Krystal so cordially that she feared she would break into tears again. "Uh, n-no. Thank you. I have to go," Krystal hastily replied and backed off while Dean secretly eyed her as she left the arena. Something strange, unfamiliar feeling striked Dean as he saw her. Her simple dressing, her soft features, her decency and her innocence, everything seemed so familiar, as if he knew her. He in a moment or so, left the arena to the main exit. Krystal was about to leave when she heard Dean calling her. "Wait!" "Yes?" She stopped and turned while Dean hurriedly came towards her. "Have we met before? I mean during the signings or appearances or any main event?" Dean inquired desperately. "No. Just today." "Then why do I feel like I've seen you a zillion times before?" "You're mistaken, s-sir," perplexed Krystal managed to utter. "Just 'Dean'. I don't like people, I mean you, calling me 'sir'. And yes, we've met! I've seen you in my dreams." "What? In your dreams? Boy, you're screwed by a ghost!" Krystal chuckled not knowing that her prayer of God letting her in his dreams was true. (#MiraclesComeTrue #DontLaughAtMyStupidity) "God, you look cute when you laugh," Dean gave a pleasant smirk. Krystal stopped laughing and looked in his eyes which were already fixed over her face. Coming out of the trance, she turned and was about to escape when he gripped her wrist to pull her back. "I'm not done, princess. Why didn't you want my autograph? I mean, never in my whole career has someone rejected my autograph but you and I never 'offered' anyone my autograph except for you. Girls die to get it. But you don't? Why?" Now what should I tell you. I wanted your signature in my head, my mind. And I have gotten that by the beautiful gift of God: memories, which are saved and can never be lost unlike the autograph paper which I fear would get lost and be found crumpled under someone's shoe. Oh, I would never want your name to be disrespected. And you think that why didn't I have it on my neck or skin? It's just because I don't want a grain of dust to settle over your name; I don't want to scratch it while I bath; I don't want to touch it when my hands are dirty. Oh God, I can't explain all this. I can't let him know that I love him. "I-I just didn't want it. I'm not a 'DA girl'." "Oh, how can that be? I assure you, that one day, you'll be more than a 'DA girl'," he avowed as his grip tightened while Krystal stood frightened loving his confidence at the same time. But she still tried to show ignorant emotions as if she didn't believe him. "I have to go now," Krystal pulled her wrist and turned when he caught it again. "You can't be smarter than me, can't be more stronger than me and can't ignore me over my love," he accidently spoke the last phrase while Krystal asked, "What do you mean by that?" "Uh, nothing. You won't understand." Ignoring the reply, Krystal struggled to get herself free. "Now would you release me so that I could go?" "Sure, but you have to answer my questions," his grip was manly and strong. "Ask." "Your Name?" "Krystal." "Your contact number?" "I won't give." "Your address?" "I can't tell." "Do you think we'll meet again?" "No." "Why?" "I don't know." He finally released her. As she was pulling herself harder, she stumbled and was about to fall when he caught her waist as she gripped his collar to prevent herself from falling. "I told you. You can't be smarter than me...princess. And yes, you're wrong. We'll meet someday again." "How can you be so sure?" "Because life is one, while encounters are many," Dean winked as he moved her straight. Krystal couldn't help but smile a little. Then she turned and left the arena.