Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or real people in this story. The characters are owned by the WWE and the real people own themselves.

A/N: So I must be crazy because I'm starting another new story. I think I'm just a glutton for punishment. I was trying to get online one day and while I was waiting, this idea struck.

Anyways, this story is AU and it's pretty different from my other stuff, for one, it's in first person perspective, Stephanie's POV to be exact. Please leave a review and let me know if I should continue, if you want to be brutal, go right ahead. Thanks. :)

I think I was seven when I first saw him.

It must've been around that age. Maybe he was around before that and I just can't remember. There are a lot of things I don't remember from when I was a kid. It's like your brain picks and chooses what it wants to remember and what it wants to let fade. It's sad, really, that there are moments in this world that will never be remembered. But that's what happens, moments are lost. So maybe I had seen him before and just don't remember. I think I would have, but who knows.

That first time, it was just out of the corner of my eye. I was sitting there and I could feel a gaze on me. Funny how you know when eyes are on you even when you're not looking. I didn't know who would be looking at me though and being the little kid that I was, I didn't much care about other people or things. I should have though because then maybe I would understand things better. I turned my head, but then, nobody was looking at me so I figured I must have been imagining the eyes on me. Oh well, it was no big deal.

But then, sometimes I'd be sitting in class and I'd look over and just get a glimpse of blue eyes staring at me and then nothing. It piqued my interest then, but then recess would come and I'd go out and play with my friends and forget all about the staring. I didn't mind it really. I mean, I did, but I tried not to notice it. I would just go about my day and forget about it and then later, I'd see him again and he'd be looking again, but only for a second and then again, nothing.

I didn't even think it strange. I must have been a strange child myself not to think it was strange to be stared at like that. I think kids are just more accepting. That's why parents have to tell their kids not to go off with strangers. A kid will just go off with anyone, believe anything. They're so gullible, it's no wonder parents put them on leashes like animals, they are little animals. So accepting when there's no real reason to be. It's insane. I don't know what I was thinking. Someone staring at you is never normal.

When I got to high school, I noticed him a lot more. I'd see him standing down the hallway and he'd be staring at me. I'd stare back defiantly. I was a rebel, I wasn't going to take this lying down. I wasn't going to bow my head and act like I wasn't seeing him. I saw him alright and I wanted to make sure he knew that I saw him. So I'd stare straight at him and we'd have a staring contest. I always looked away first. I couldn't help it, he would just stare at me. I never wanted to go up and talk to him. I didn't think it appropriate. I don't know why, it just didn't seem like a good idea.

I finally worked up that courage when I was sixteen. I'd caught him staring again. I marched straight up to him and stood in front of him. He stayed there. "What do you want?"

He didn't answer me, he just looked at me and smiled slightly.

"Do you even talk? Can you even talk?" I demanded to know. I'd never heard his voice, maybe he couldn't talk.

"I can talk," he said and his voice was low and hoarse, like he hadn't used it in a while. It also floated through the air, like it didn't even interrupt the stillness of it.

"Why are you always staring at me? Why are you always around me!" I wanted to know.

It wasn't that he was bad to look at or anything. I think it could've been much worse. He could've had a weird face, lanky limbs, limp, greasy hair that covered his face. He never looked like that though. No, he was so well kept. He had blond hair, beautiful hair, hair that I would be completely envious of under any other circumstances. He kept it tied back, I could see that clear as day. He had blue eyes. They pierced, like swords into my skin. They'd pierced it since I was a little kid. I knew those eyes as well as my own it seemed.

He didn't answer and that pissed me off, I wanted to know what he was doing when he was staring at me. "Who are you? What's your name?"

"Chris," he answered.

"Well, I don't like you, Chris," I told him. "I don't like you one bit and you can just disappear for all I care."

I didn't care at the time. I really didn't. He could've just disappeared and I wouldn't have cared. Sure, he wasn't horrible to look at, like I said, but I still didn't want him constantly staring at me. I wondered if anyone else had this problem. Did Chris like me, is that why he was constantly around? Is that why he wouldn't leave me alone? I didn't know and whenever I'd gather up the nerve to converse with him, he never told me. I'd demand and demand, like a little kid wanting candy, and he'd never give me an answer and I'd always tell him to get lost.

I tried to stop noticing him, but it was difficult. By the time I was graduating high school, I'd gotten used to his presence, but I always knew it was there. He was like a stalker, constantly tracking me wherever I went and I didn't get why I was so special to him. Why did I garner such attention? But then I thought, maybe when he's not around me (and sometimes he isn't) he's staring at someone else. Maybe I'm not the only one he torments. It comforted me, that thought, that this stalker character might stalk someone on the side.

I thought, maybe when I go to college, maybe when I move away, he'll leave me alone. It was such a comforting thought when I'd see him those last few months before I moved to Boston to go to college. I kept thinking, "It's okay, stare now, stare all you want because I'm leaving and if you think I'm coming back, I'm not. When I do come back, I'll live somewhere where you can't find me. Maybe I'll never come back, maybe that's it." I'd think it defiantly and I'd stare at him. He wasn't going to follow me to college like some love-sick puppy.

Then, first day, I'm setting up my dorm room, I look out the window and there he is. He wasn't staring up at me, but there he was, like he knew this was where I was staying. I sat down heavily on my bed. Thoughts of the cops came into my mind, but he'd be gone before they got here. I'd tried that once back home. I was fifteen at the time and I'd told my parents and they'd called the cops, but he was gone before they got there. Now here he was again and I didn't want to see him again, but he wasn't going to leave me alone.

So I accepted my fate. What else could I really do? I couldn't think of a way to get rid of him, to get him to stop watching me, stalking my every move so I had to learn to deal. I did it in high school, I could do it again. I got friends, I had boyfriends, I ignored his very existence. I didn't go up to him and try to talk. I didn't demand answers. I just let him be. If he wanted to stare, fine. Maybe one day he'd come up to me and talk and tell me everything I wanted to know. I'd grown up with him, but I still knew next to nothing about him. But I wasn't going to prod anymore, it was all up to him.

I actually forgot about him for a while. Looking back, I'm sure he was still around, but I just didn't take notice of it. I lived my life and college was fun. I knew I'd be working for my father when the time came. I would be set for life with a job and that eased a lot of my worry as I made my way through college. It allowed me to actually have fun and it was probably in that fun that I forgot about him and his very being. I wouldn't say it was the happiest time of my life. It wasn't like he was an annoyance, well, not an overt annoyance. His presence was an annoyance, but I didn't know enough about him to be annoyed.

So when he showed up at my place of work after I'd graduated, I was startled by his appearance. I visibly shuddered and my brother, who'd been walking next to me, turned to me and asked, "Are you alright, Steph?"

I looked ahead again and sure enough, there he was, looking like he'd never left. I shook my head, "Nothing, Shane, I was just thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"Just work," I told him.

Shane seemed to be appeased by that answer and kept walking. I walked right by Chris and he watched me. I didn't look at him though, I didn't want Shane to ask me what was the matter. So I just ignored him, like usual, like I'd been doing for years now. I didn't look back either, but he was watching again. He'd been watching me for 18 years now and he wasn't going anywhere it seemed. He was just going to keep watching me and keep watching me.

When I saw him in my office later that evening, I had no choice but to look up at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here," he said simply.

"I can see that," I told him. "I thought I left you behind."

"You didn't."

"Well, I'm going to ignore you again. I know you were probably being your usual, creepy self all this time, all the time I ignored you, but I ignored you once, I can do it again," I told him.

"Okay," he answered simply.

"Okay? Just like that? Just like that, okay?"

"You can ignore me."

"I'm going to," I said petulantly.

"Okay," he repeated.

"Why don't you leave me alone too? Surely there's someone else, surely there's someone else you can bug and stalk and watch," I said, my voice almost coming around to pleading.

"No, there's nobody else."

The words unsettled me more than I'd like to admit. But I'd be damned if I showed it.

"Well fine, I'm going to ignore you then," I said, looking down. I looked down for at least five minutes and then when I looked up again, he'd left and I sighed in relief.

I tried to ignore him, I really did, but it was hard. He was where I worked, there was no escape there. But I tried. I would go about my business and that's where I am today, sitting here, at the gorilla, looking over some papers. I'm 24 years old and I'm being stalked, well, that's too hard to say. I'm kind of being stalked, I'm being watched and the man's name is Chris. He's watching me right now, I can feel his eyes on me. The feeling is as natural to me as breathing. But no time for that now. Paul Levesque, who I've been working with is here. He's a nice guy. I don't mind him.

"Hey, Stephanie."

"Hey," I tell him with a smile.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner," he said, cutting straight to the point. I've learned that he's like that. I can't help but find him attractive. Working so closely with him, it's hard not to fall for him. I've not yet fallen for him, but it could be coming, I could be falling.

"I'd love to."

"Great, pick you up tomorrow at 8?"

"I'll see you there."

That night, I fell asleep, but when I woke up, there he was again, sitting on my bed. I sighed and he looked at me.

"Go away," I tell him.


"Why not?"

"You need me."

It was only then I realized what I'd been denying all along.

Chris is my guardian angel.