Ailetteya

“Two hearts speaking the same language,

even beneath rival skies.

We carried every sorrow together

and turned it into laughter.

What we were and what we are

will remain ours to remember

when the future finally finds us.”

— Jude Bellingham x Pablo Gavi | Masa-Masa by The Adams.

Eleven Minutes Before I Left

This is a poet from Clarity by Ailetteya on AO3; a fanfic where Ferran left Barcelona after Spain lose at World Cup 2026 and transfers to Paris Saint-Germain, this is how Ferran’s mind and feelings about himself, besides of Pedri and his confidence too on the pitch.

I was given only eleven minutes

to save our country,

but I gave you years

waiting for you to save us.

Beneath the stadium lights,

after defeat turned cheers into silence,

you held me like someone

who had finally understood what it meant to lose.

Unfortunately, your embraces always came

after the final whistle had blown.

That night, you wore my shirt.

You sat on the edge of the bed

with both hands clutching the hem of the fabric,

as though the faint trace of my scent left there

was enough to keep me yours.

Then you asked me to stay.

Not when my name began disappearing

from the starting lineup.

Not when the bench

knew my body better than the pitch did.

Not when Barcelona left me

waiting without certainty.

You asked me to stay

only when Paris began calling my name,

louder than home ever did.

I almost said yes, to you.

Because among all the things

I have failed to understand in this life,

I have always understood the way I love you.

I understand the language of your eyes

when your mouth is too afraid to confess.

I understand the way your hands search for me

after defeat, after pain, after the world

feels too large for you to face alone.

I was always there.

But there is a difference

between being needed

and being chosen.

You looked for me when you were lonely,

but you never fought for me

when I still had reasons to stay.

Now you cry

as though my leaving is a betrayal,

when you were the one who taught me

that love can remain somewhere for so long

without ever truly being called home.

If you ask me

whether I still love you,

the answer is the cruelest part

of this goodbye:

yes.

I still love you

more than the city that raised me,

more than the crest I once defended,

more than all the applause

that might be waiting for me somewhere new.

But love should not make me

keep begging to be chosen.

So take my shirt off your body.

Let this door close.

Let the plane carry me,

to a city that does not yet know our wounds.

You are the chaos

I have always understood most easily,

and I am someone

who spent too long believing

that understanding meant I had to stay.

Now, for the first time,

everything feels clear:

I love you,

you love me,

and I still have to leave.

— Ferran Torres on Clarity by Ailetteya on Archive of Our Own.

🤎 Jude Bellingham and Pablo Gavi 🩷

art by: @morticiaiso on X

Feel free to USE the header. For JudeGavi nation.