Misette Misette

MASTERLIST

Writing rules here

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Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x reader (Nicky, first person)

Season 1

Summary : After moving to Madrid as Real Madrid's new photographer, Nicky can’t seem to take her eyes off the pretty face Misa Rodríguez. But how will she handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her contract strictly forbids dating players?

WC: I don't know, way too much TW: at some point angst, smut +18, but still a lot of fluff PS: French writer / I wrote this story during the 23/24 season, that explained some of the players are not in the team anymore. Anyway, it's a parallel univers so I do what I want.

Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and Peaks Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique Chapter 7 ➺ In the Haze Chapter 8 ➺ Confusion and directions Chapter 9 ➺ The same struggle Chapter 10 ➺ A place for words Chapter 11 ➺ Not a cloud in sight

Season 2

Summary: A new season begins for Nicky, the newly promoted photography director of Real Madrid. Navigating her new responsibilities while maintaining her secret relationship with Misa is not easy on a daily basis, especially when the unpredictability of life keeps making things even more complicated.

WC: don't know yet TW: angst, smut +18, but still a lot of fluff PS: French writer / this season is based on the real previous season 24/25, with some changes and accommodations

Chapter 12 ➺ Better and bitter Chapter 13 ➺ Dangerous steps Chapter 14 ➺ The fall Chapter 15 ➺ Broken nights

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Blow my whistle

Misa Rodríguez x Leila Ouahabi x Reader

+18 pure smut with, I hope, a little bit of fun. [ Part 1 ] [ Part 2 ]

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MISA FIC REC

A Poorly Planned Escape by @skalfy A Reputation for Good Taste by @skalfy

You Can't Talk No Sh*t Without Penalties (Misa Rodriguez x Marta Cardona) by @copper-16

Just Let Go 1 2 3 4 5 by @girlgenius1111 To the brink by @girlgenius1111 No one speaks to you like that by @girlgenius1111

ibiza holiday, part2 (leila ouahabi & misa rodríguez) by @a-pute11as

swipe, like, love, misa x reader by @starrynights-sunnyskies a clash to keep her by @starrynights-sunnyskies mine to save by @starrynights-sunnyskies mine to protect by @starrynights-sunnyskies

One night in Ibiza (Misa Rodríguez x Hermoso!Reader) by @pitchsidestories

Tough & Hard by @helen-with-an-a Compliments by @helen-with-an-a

Sleepy Cuddles by @suckerforblondeathletes

Change of heart by @inuyashaluver

Jump scare by @wileys-russo

Starting over In Madrid - Season 2 Reposting because of a bug :( please show it some love

Chapter 16 ➺ Winter lights

WC: 5K words TW: angst but not only NB: I recommend listening Formentera by Aitana which is a recurrent song through the story. Should have said it before.

Summary: A new season begins for Nicky, the newly promoted photography director of Real Madrid. Navigating her new responsibilities while maintaining her secret relationship with Misa is not easy on a daily basis, especially when the unpredictability of life keeps making things even more complicated.

Chapter 12 ➺ Better and bitter Chapter 13 ➺ Dangerous steps Chapter 14 ➺ The fall Chapter 15 ➺ Broken nights

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Of course I love her. 

The words kept ringing in my mind as I navigated through the numerous guests, their eyes locked on the frames, unaware of their author escaping through the hall. I was glad they weren’t paying attention to me. I couldn’t wait to reach my small private room where I’d lock myself away for a moment and probably cry. I didn’t know how to deal with what I’d just heard. Even if we had been about to kiss in the elevator just yesterday, hearing those words hit me on another level. I knew now she was suffering, aching like I had been for weeks and it felt impossible to tame my feelings anymore. 

I felt the pain again, blunt and vivid, the tearing sensation of being deprived of her, of a part of myself being ripped apart. I swallowed to help my throat relax, the burning feeling of tears rising in my weary eyes, I quickened my pace therefore, slaloming between people until I ran into Hayley at the end of the gallery. Unable to compose myself, I froze in front of her, her face mirroring my own panic. 

“Not here”, I cut her off before she even spoke and I waved her to follow me to the small room. 

“Nicky!?“, she called in dismay as soon as I had closed the door. 

“It’s her… I overheard her talking to Léa… she said she still loves me…” I bit my lips, fighting against the truth, working madly at preventing the words from leaving my mouth but they came out anyway. “I still love her too, Hayley! I love her so much!” 

Sadness and exhaustion crept up on me. I leant onto the table and Hayley came to hold me in her arms. I let my head fall against her shoulder, realizing how solitary I was since the break up. I had shut myself from most people, including her, my best friend here in Madrid, when I had tried to pull away from everything related to Misa. Now, her soft patting was showing me how much I missed the comforting presence of a friend at my side.

“I know it hurts Sweetie. Breathe. You are still heartbroken and it’s okey to feel that way” Hayley murmured. She didn’t sound surprised by my revelation so I deduced she and the goalkeeper had remained close.

“When does it stop hurting? Is it that hard for her?” I didn’t know why I asked her that, I only knew I had very little control over anything anymore. I could tell Hayley was embarrassed, reluctant to give away her friend’s feelings. However, after a deep sigh, she answered.

“Yes, it has been, and it’s still very hard for her. But you know Misa, she’s buried herself in work so she can’t feel anything”. 

I didn’t know what to answer. I had done pretty much the same, and had thought it was working, but in the end, dismay was as vivid as the first day now that the emotions were resurfacing. Although now, I knew that it was a shared pain and that changed everything.

Hayley nudged me.

“Come on Nicky, it’s your night, you did an amazing work and everybody’s proud of you. You should be proud of yourself and enjoy the moment! What can I do to make you feel better… maybe we could go dancing? I think I’m hearing music! ” 

The energy of the party attracted me. It had been my remedy, but only as a photographer. I hadn’t been part of those nights, not really, and I hadn’t danced for so long. It felt weird just to think about it and I wasn’t sure dancing really appealed to me anymore.

“Nicky! Dance and photography, that’s how we became friend together. Let’s go, girl!” Insisted Hayley.

My first thoughts went to Misa. We had become friend through dance. I remembered our first night at the club in Chueca. I remembered her hips pressing against mine, her strong hold as she conducted our dance, her brown eyes lighting a flame inside my heart. 

The flame had lasted in our hearts until tonight, I thought, almost choking. That thought pulled me toward the dancehall and toward her, suddenly, and I nodded to Hayley.

“Great!” The Aussie triumphed without knowing my inner conflict. 

I followed her back to the gallery. We passed in front of a series of portraits. Face after face scrolled by. The enlarged head of the goalkeeper was among them, her round face in black and white, peering at the horizon, her plump lips bearing the traces of a pout. I remembered when I had taken the shot. She was finishing training and coming back to the locker room, her gloves and a bottle of water in hand. I had followed her and she had turned to an unusual direction with a quick, discreet shove of her head. She had entered a small room. She had pinned me to the wall. I could still feel the taste of her mouth on my tongue right now. 

We reached the dancing hall when I recalled the way her hand had slipped under my pants. Stars had been dancing, I had cried her name in a whisper, and she had held me close, covering my spent face with kisses. “Te amo, guapa,” she had said.

“Sounds good!” Hayley pulled me away from my memories and into the crowd of dancers. I felt awkward in the middle of people having fun, my brain clouded by the memory, the ghostlike feel of Misa making my limbs stiff. I was taken aback, standing still among the moving bodies.

Hayley took my hands gently, “Sweetie, let go.”

She moved slowly, and I tried to follow just as Maelle and Teresa spotted us. They looked so cheerful, so alive, when they joined us. How great it had to be to feel that way! Maybe if I moved with an equal dedication I would taste their joy. I had never given it a try at the club because nobody had been expecting me to do so. Here it was different. I was the focus of attention. Like Maelle and Teresa’s intrigued glances suggested, I was supposed to look happy and accomplished, not lost in melancholy, wiggling weirdly on the dance floor.

Something in my brain snapped, wrecked from trying and failing to fake it. My moves got loose. Fuck them! I was going to dance if that was what everybody wanted! They were all waiting for the photographer of the night to enjoy herself. They were going to have it.

So, suddenly, I danced for real. I smiled, I laughed, I set my mind free. I wasn’t Nicky anymore. I was a photographer on her opening night, celebrating how she was supposed to. The dance floor was becoming crowded and the music louder. It was perfect. Perfect to move along the rhythm and to forget anything else. Misa didn’t exist, I had never met her. I danced and danced, every time more wildly, becoming one with the fake happy woman wearing my face. Hayley was smiling broadly, buying the lie I had crafted for everyone, including myself. The bar was full of partiers waiting for their drinks. I could do with a drink too. It would be a nice reward for having gotten rid of her. Misa was nobody, no one. Why would I feel sad if I was not in love? And if she didn’t exist, why was she sitting on a stool at the bar? Why was she looking at her phone instead of dancing at a party? Why was my heart aching again like somebody had just punched me in the stomach? Why, if I wasn’t in love? 

There was a wave of swirling dancers and the goalkeeper was out of view. I tried to refocus on the dance and on my mascarade but I couldn’t. The impostor was gone, the mask with it. I wanted to find her again. The music changed and the tall persons who were blocking my view walked away. Instantly I stretched my neck, looking for the stool where she had been seated on and found it empty. I couldn’t help but pray she hadn’t gone home. My brain had switched completely once again, driven by an urge to see her as our group was pushed further at the center of the dance floor. And among the waves of moving heads, was her face. She was dancing with Caroline and Signey, looking sightly absorbed by the song’s rhythm. My heart tightened as I realized I felt relieved to see her having fun with her friends. What was going on with me? I couldn’t let myself fall for the goalkeeper after all my efforts to keep my distance! But how could I stay away from her knowing her feelings for me were intact? Maybe that was the reason why I didn’t step back when the crowd pushed our little group closer to hers and when, inevitably, the two groups started to merge into one. 

From the opposite side of the dance circle, Misa took a few seconds to realize I was there. She looked down, embarrassed, her dance suddenly timid. My moves got tensed too, like I had become conscious of every muscle in my body. I tried to relax to blend in with the other girls’ casual dance but the goalie’s presence inside the dance circle was swallowing everything else. Fortunately, nobody cared about us. Time had passed and with nothing to feed it, it was long since the misacertijo had been forgotten. The players seemed to have totally forgotten their past assumptions. They didn’t notice how we kept glancing at each other, swift and shy, and nobody noticed when we locked eyes as a new song began, its first notes connecting our two minds right away. 

Porque desde que estás aquí Aquí cerca de mí Que tú eres mi baby Ese recuerdo de tenerte sin ropa

Memories linked our bodies, a string between us, a beam of sorrow. 

A wild dance beside a pool. 

Delicate hands healing a wound.

New movements of the crowd made us break our eye contact, people were having their ways through our circle and our group dissolved in the mass of dancers. For a moment, I was lost in the sea of faceless people, their joy and energy repelling me suddenly. My constant fight against my feelings was wearing me down to the bone. I knew it was time to go out to smoke to avoid another mental breakdown. With any luck, a cigarette would grant me the blank, numbed mind I needed so much. 

My arms carved a path between moving bodies, some of them huddled together. I shouldered my way a few more feet, the edge of the dance floor in sight. A perfume reached my nostrils, sweet and floral. A head turned around, its dark brown dyed hair swirling, spreading the suffocating scent all around. And her beautiful face was there, right in front of me. 

We locked eyes again, the string between us back and stretched to the maximum as her longing froze my body onto the spot. At that moment, all I could think of was how insanely attractive she was.

Porque desde que estás aquí Aquí cerca de mí Que tú eres mi baby Ese recuerdo de tenerte sin ropa

My brain recomposed her soft and slender voice singing in place of Aitana, and I pictured her taking care of my wounds, lying on her sofa. Her concentrated features merged with the troubled ones standing in front of me and a foolish force pulled my body forward, surprising the goalkeeper who opened her eyes wide, her confusion showing more as I placed my hand onto her arm. I realized she was looking, astonished, at the bracelet attached to my wrist. 

I withdrew my hand immediately but my gaze rested hesitantly on hers. I didn’t know why I had done so, I only knew I could not stand to see her in pain. Misa was frozen too, unblinking, her chest rising up and down faster as I opened my mouth, wishing, willing to find the right words to say. Because of what I had eavesdropped, I knew something she didn’t and I wanted to fix that, to make things fair. I wanted to let her know that I shared that pain, that she wasn’t alone, and that if I could, I would give anything to take both of our pain away. But keeping her bracelet had already proved that and I fell short of what else I could come up with. 

I hadn’t had time to say anything. Somebody jostled me rather roughly and I plunged forward right against the young goalie. Strong arms took me, wrapping themselves around me as I regained my balance. More people pushed around us, trying to exit the dance floor, and Misa had no choice but to hold me against her, our faces barely inches away from each other. 

The feel of her embrace shrouded me, overwhelming. I was in the elevator again but I had no panic attack this time, drowning in her perfume, aware of her cheek brushing mine as I stayed pressed against her hard muscular body. My arms were folded between our chests, my hands closed in two fists. Misa was barely moving, unfailing at protecting me from the movements of the crowd. 

A few seconds later, people had stopped swirling in every direction and had settled in tight groups, giving us back some space. However, I was once again unable to stop breathing in that intoxicated scent of her and leave the powerful and reassuring hold of her arms.

Not now. One more second, please. Just one. 

Another one. To lose myself in it, in her. 

To forget. 

We broke up. 

The thought of us stabbed me like a knife, sharp and piercing, and I pulled back suddenly but only to fall into her lost eyes. I was taller because of the hills and my glance unusually leveled with hers, suspended. Her face was so damned beautiful, she had put light make up on, her smoky eyes enhancing her gaze which was already so intense. Resting on her chest, my fists unfolded and lay flat on the skin of her neckline, moist under my palms. She had loosened her grasp but had not let me go completely. Anyway, it was those brown almond-shaped eyes that were ensnaring me as they begged me to stay here. The pulled string had now shrunk to inches in a perfect horizontal line, thin but strong, almost vibrant. I could cross those inches to kiss her now, as her lips were inviting me, waiting, trembling, to do so. 

I was loosing it. All of it. My entire being driven toward her and her only. All the feelings I had for her were spurting madly from where I had locked them down two months ago in a hurricane of overwhelming emotions.

No! No, I couldn’t go all over again! I couldn’t handle it! I was not going to fall for it another time! She had dumped me! She had broke my heart! I had make it there, at Real Madrid, without her! It had been too hard to come to where I was now, able to feel little joys, little success, barely able to bear the loneliness that crushed me every night.

The string broke apart.

I tore myself from her arms and fled through the crowd, not looking back as excruciating pain choked me. I pushed people more roughly than before. I needed to get out of here desperately and to bury my feelings for her back deep down. I had to beat them down, to destroy them so they could never escape again. Once for good. 

I finally reached the edge of the dance floor and rushed to my room to take my stuff. It was too risky to stay here another minute. I felt more lost than ever, diving back into my feelings as I packed my things into a backpack and headed back toward the main entrance. I escaped the building. Tension eased as soon as I was outside, but I paused a few feet away from the door, the need to smoke urgent. 

I dropped my bag and exhaled deeply. I didn’t know how to handle my emotions anymore. My heart was about to explode, wrecked with pain. It was freezing cold tonight, the longest night of the year, and my breath let out puffs of steam as I took another deep breath to calm myself down. I leaned onto the wall, pulled out a cigarette and put it between my lips. I lit it up, the first drag appeasing me a little more, helping me to clear my burned-out brain. I made a promise to myself. I wasn’t going to spoil everything I had worked so hard to build because of Misa. I would make sure I would never be that close to the Canarian goalkeeper again. Never. 

I heavily breathed out smoke, the sound of music suddenly louder with somebody going out. I brought the cigarette back to my mouth, wishing nobody would find me there no matter who they were. “Damned it!“ I muttered under my breath as a shadow stretched toward me. I took out my phone, the cigarette hanging from my mouth, a clear message to signal whoever was here that I wasn’t keen to talk. 

The sound of footsteps got clearer with the shadow on the floor growing. A silhouette finally appeared around the corner, and I dared to glance up at the tall figure standing a few feet away. My heart leaped. It was Misa and her attitude had changed to the opposite, assured and oozing self-confidence. I peered at her, astonished, as she walked toward me, her pace determined. I knew then she wasn’t here by chance. She had been looking for me. 

Misa faced me, stared at me ostensibly, her eyes locked onto my cigarette with a hard frown. She looked furious. Had I offended her by leaving the dance floor? Why had she been looking for me then? To have a fight? To scold me? 

But she didn’t let me have the time to make any more assumptions. Without warning, her fingers ripped the cigarette from my lips, threw it on the floor and crushed it. I gasped, staring back, shocked and outraged. My heart drummed so hard in my chest, its beating went crazy when she took my face in her hands, her hold firm and assured, and crashed her lips onto mine. 

I let out a first whine of surprise, and a second of release. My brain boiled with dozens of questions, dying one after the other as her lips worked fiercely over mine. Thinking became completely impossible. I couldn’t stop her. Worse, my whole being had been wanting this so badly I started to kiss her back without restraint. 

It felt all brand new and yet extraordinary familiar to make out with her. My hands automatically found their way around her muscular shoulders and up her neck, to the baby hair at  her nape. Misa’s taste and the way her lips enfolded mine could not be compared to anything else. Only her plump and full lips could wrapped themselves softly like this, yet demanding, yet commanding and I didn’t even fight before I surrendered to them as the tip of her tongue brushed over my lips. I cocked my head to the side and her tongue plunged into my mouth, filling me with a fire I had not felt for weeks. A peaceful haze had me dazzled, like her kiss, the smell of her breath and the feel of her grasp keeping me close were erasing the bruises of my heart, which had lasted far longer than the ones left by my accident. 

Misa’s mouth finally parted from my lips and she rested her forehead against mine, both of us out of breath, the puffs of steam dancing around our faces in the cold night. 

“Hey“, I said, closing my eyes to sink a little deeper in our closeness. 

“Hey“, she echoed, her breathing shaky. She had gone straight outside and was shivering, freezing in her thin clothes.  

I leaned back. Misa’s anxious gaze followed mine as if she feared I was going to dismiss her. I simply took off my long coat to put it around her shoulders, before I snuggled up to her and wrapped the cloth around us both. 

Misa had made my brain crash. I couldn’t think, nor could recall why we couldn’t be together in the first place. My arms ensnared her torso, pressing her more against me. The goalkeeper buried her nose in my hair, her heavy breathing blowing strongly against the shell of my ear. She hugged me back like crazy. I closed my eyes, wishing to stay like this forever, in that suspended moment. I’d never allowed myself to dream of something like that, spontaneous and visceral, and I wasn’t understanding how we had ended up clumped together, two bodies shaped into one, trembling under a coat, when I had fought so hard to keep my distance from her, only minutes ago. Staying apart required a mental strength I was forced to admit I no longer had. 

Misa lifted my chin, her soft look swallowing my emotions as my brain vainly tried to reconnect with reason. 

“Nicky… I” she began. 

“Please don’t go,” I cut in. Reason had failed.

She gasped. Her lips stretched into a guilty smile.

“Should I take you back inside? Or home?”

“I don’t want to go back,” I confessed, reaching out to her face. Extreme fatigue and deep liberation were putting my brain in slow motion. The curious stare of the goalie, waiting for my decision, accompanied me as I took her back in my arms. “I’m already home.” I said. 

I felt her deep breath. 

“Esperame. Wait,” she asked, parting from me. Her eyes were shiny and she covered her face as she headed back inside. 

I stayed there, hovering in an overwhelming mix of emotions, until the young brunette came back, her coat on and her car keys in her hand. She pulled up my bag onto her shoulder and we headed toward the underground parking lot. We climbed inside her car, taking a minute or so to warm up inside the vehicle, before the goalie turned on the engine. 

The drive back to my flat would be quick, only taking a few minutes, but I was back at floating and time stretched strangely into the night. I shot glances at the goalkeeper to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. The goalie stayed focused on the road, a discreet smile animating her pretty mouth until we reached home. 

“Are you alright?” Misa asked, breaking our quietness as she parked in front of the building.  

“I’m so confused…” I confessed.

“Oh… I understand. I’m dropping you off and…”

“No,” I cut in, eyes on the windscreen. 

“I think you should rest. Process what’s happening.”

Misa placed her hand onto my thigh. The contact was soft and light but it enfolded my whole body and I locked eyes with her. 

“No. No, I can’t let you go.” I stated, feeling my heart crumble at the thought.

She smiled, frankly, making her dimple pop up on her cheek and freeing something warm like joy from the deepest part of me.

“Vale, ya te sigo. Lead the way.”

When we entered the apartment, my confusion had changed into something urgent. I had the ominous feeling Misa would disappear if I turned or blinked, but when she elegantly dropped my stuff on the wooden floor of the entrance and helped me pull off my coat, the fog of quiet bliss settled back around me. Then she faced me, her timid smile replaced by a striking melancholy as she watched me with an intensity that left me breathless. 

My hands fell onto her nape as I pulled her close. I felt her heavy breathing against my chest, holding in my arms the woman who broke my heart, and also her own, and I shivered when her lips brushed my ear. 

“I want you back…” she mumbled, so low it was barely audible.

“Shhh,” I whispered, eyes closed, sinking a little more into our embrace. 

I didn’t want to talk. No, it was more like I wasn’t able to talk about what was happening. I just felt a strange quiet peace, being in her arms, breathing in her sweet perfume as my lips grazed the column of her neck. 

“Eh… I just have to tell you I’m flying to Gran Canaria tomorrow at 10 am. I’ll wake up at six, I’ll try to be quiet,” Misa said.

A soft moan escaped my lips, taken aback by the prospect of her leaving so soon, and I squeezed her a little harder.

“Let’s go to bed then.” I said, hiding my confusion. 

I released her and headed to the bedroom. I undressed messily, abandoning my clothes onto the floor, and putting on a large T shirt. When I had finished I glanced at Misa, waiting in underwear, nibbling at her lips.

“Can I borrow something to wear for the night ?” She asked, embarrassed. 

“Yep” I replied, biting my lips as well as I opened the cupboard. I knew I still had the few clothes she had left. I didn’t rummage in it for long before finding one of her T-shirts. “Here, you’re lucky. I’ve never liked this one, it got very close to ending up in the trash bin,” I said, throwing her a cream oversized printed T shirt. 

“What? But it’s a Scuffers!” Misa took offense. 

As she put the improvised pyjamas on, I couldn’t help but think how badly I had missed her whole, unbearable personality. But I was in no state of showing it. I was still floating in another world. Shrouded by her presence, I took her hand nevertheless, in need of a constant physical contact, and dragged her to the bathroom.

“I’m sorry but your toothbrush didn’t survive, here’s a new one” I indicated.

The young goalie sized up the brush and wet it under the tap. 

“That’s far more acceptable than the Scuffers T shirt” she mumbled, her mouth full of toothpaste.

I stared at us, brushing our teeth, in the mirror reflection. We looked tired, what we both probably were. Misa’s shoulders appeared bigger, the muscle volume nicely filling the T-shirt sleeves. Compared to her, I seemed lost in the fabric of my large pyjamas. 

Readied for the night, we rejoined each other in bed. I turned off the light, letting the streetlight paint the room with its yellowish tint as we reached out for each other under the duvet. We locked eyes, getting accustomed to the darkness, and slid toward the center of the mattress until there were no inches left between our bodies. Inside of me, a light had been switched on. My hands fell on her face, the skin dry from countless hours of training in the winter wind. My fingers traced the thick shape of her eyebrows, her eyes leaving mine only to blink a few times. I studied her nose, noticed something was missing. 

“You took off your nose ring,“ I remarked. 

“Si, I grew tired of taking it off and on.” 

“I like your nose. It’s cute.“

I delicately brushed the spot on her nostril before the tips of my index finger skimmed over her smiling lips. Her mouth relaxed and she held me a little tighter in her arms. My own mouth replaced my fingers playing with her lips. I sunk into the kiss, pressing, pulling, tasting more of Misa in the quietness of the longest night of the year, as a cold moon appeared in the cloudy sky. The room turned bluish with the winter lights, glazing the brunette’s hair with silver. 

Our lips parted, an inch or so, just enough to drink in each other’s gaze. 

“I can’t stop loving you.” I confessed. 

I barely registered the silver flickering in the goalie’s eyes before I nested against her and closed mine. 

“No puedes dejar amarte tampoco. Please don’t stop loving me.” She said. 

“Will you call me during the holidays?” I asked, drowsiness taking over me. 

“Every day, Azucariño.”

Starting over In Madrid - Season 2

Chapter 15 ➺ Broken nights

Summary: A new season begins for Nicky, the newly promoted photography director of Real Madrid. Navigating her new responsibilities while maintaining her secret relationship with Misa is not easy on a daily basis, especially when the unpredictability of life keeps making things even more complicated.

WC: 5K words TW: angst, claustrophobia

Chapter 12 ➺ Better and bitter Chapter 13 ➺ Dangerous steps Chapter 14 ➺ The fall

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Fall was drawing towards its end. The icy cold wind bit the trees and scared away the rare pedestrians of the Ciudad neighborhoods. The strong wind infiltrated everywhere, its gusts galloping through the alleys, punishing even the mighty ones daring to venture outside, leaving them numb and battered.

Sheltered by the thick concrete walls, the smoke of my cigarette rose in the air. The volutes danced and spiraled, indifferent to the wind knocking over the grass just ahead of the smoking area of the women’s training pitch. I took a drag from my cigarette. My gaze traveled over the mistreated shape of the tree’s foliage. Someone shouted in the distance, excited. A couple of panicked birds flew away, perhaps in hope to find of more welcoming place. I inhaled again, the poised smoke a swift relief through the slumber. 

Numbness was my best friend.  It had helped me pull myself back together and I wasn’t asking for more nowadays. Although, today, I tried to pull numbness back to me like air through my cigarette.

I couldn’t deny it. It was hard. Seeing her again. After a whole month. After all my efforts to avoid it, though I’d always known I would be on my way to the pitch sooner or later, seeing her had been hard. 

The voices drew closer and the first players came off the training pitch a few feet away from me. Hayley waved to me as she exited toward the parking lot, a quick and brief hello before she looked back at her phone. She had tried to reach out to me when it happened but I had dismissed her. She was part of it somehow, part of the hurting part. Like the rest, hanging with Hayley would have been unbearable.

I pulled at the end of the cigarette, telling myself I should go back inside before she went that way too. But it was so tempting to see how I would feel, her being that close. 

Blowing out smoke, my chest tightened. Numbness gone, I remembered that night so vividly. That night… when time had stopped.

Life frozen. 

I had dragged myself to bed. I had been lying down, unable to sleep, unable to stop crying. The couple of minutes during which I didn’t cry had been spent staring blankly at the ceiling. 

I relived so strongly how my body had seemed to be floating, heart ripped out, the bare flesh exposed to the unwavering truth. The realization was the worst part of a break up. The acceptance had been impossible. The pain never eased. 

When we had broken up, her absence had suffocated me. Her presence lingered everywhere in my small home, her toothbrush waiting in the bathroom, a few clothes and underwear laying in my closet. Special ingredients for her diet were remaining safely stored in the kitchen. Her stuff had been where she had left them, where they belonged. Where she belonged, at home, the only acceptable truth to me. But the very fabric of reality had changed that night.

The night Misa went out of my life. 

The night I had realized there would be no more calls, no more talking for countless hours. No more cuddling when the harshness of life would leave me raw and unsettled. No more football lessons, nor drawing classes. No more of anything we had grown to love together. A chill walk in the park. A quick jog along the stream. Listening to her heartbeat, my head resting on her chest, lost in my thoughts. 

How was I living without her soft, warm brown gaze on me? How? Was it worth it then, keeping on being the photography director of Real Madrid? Was it worth it when nothing remained? Of course not. But it hadn’t been about me for once. We had broken up for her. And that was the hardest part to process.

I remembered so vividly that my sadistic mind had pictured her smile with her dimple on her left cheek and I that I had fidgeted, twisting the bedsheets to make the image go away. That night, I wouldn’t fall asleep for anything. I had known too well I would be dreaming of her holding me close as soon as I had closed my eyes. 

I had tossed and turned in bed, my eyes burning from all the tears. I remembered how hard I had prayed she was slouched in the sofa, wasting the night on her phone before joining me in the bedroom. I had prayed so hard she was about to come, needy before sleep, as usual, to wake me up from this nightmare. 

And in spite of my efforts, I had sunk into a troubled dream where I looked for her in a thick dense forest, the hard sun filtering through the foliage above. The young goalie had been far away, smiling as she hid behind a tree. When I finally had approached her in my dream, Misa’s broad smile had disappeared completely and I had woken up with a jolt. My arm had probed the bed for her comforting body and had fallen onto the cold flatness of the mattress.  

I closed my eyes. The pain was so vivid from the memory. Mechanically, I lit up another cigarette. 

It hadn’t eased for days. A sour suffocating pain had inhabited my chest when I had gone back to work. 

I had cried in my car, parked at the opposite side of the parking lot, some low trees and bushes granting me the privacy I had needed to recompose myself. But it had been no use. I had barely set foot into my office, fresh tears had rolled onto my cheeks. I had locked myself inside. Turning on the computer had not helped me, the numerous tasks filling my to-do list as the device had synchronized. Stress had been taking over me, accentuated by an emotional exhaustion. Her presence had leaked everywhere here too. From the field in the distance, to the photo studio, the Ciudad was where everything had begun, the witness of our friendship and attraction slowly turning into love and care. The Ciudad was her as much as she was Real Madrid. Somehow, the Ciudad was now the ghostly reminder of my gone happiness. 

I had tried to focus back onto work. I had really tried my best. But I hadn’t been able to avoid what was bound to happen. A few days had passed and I had received a new batch of photos from my assistants. My eyes had immediately filled with tears seeing her features. Once again, she was everywhere, even in the very content of my work, having me trapped in an infinite sadness as more pictures of her had downloaded. I had quit my office to get some air, but mostly to smoke the cigarettes I had bought that day. Obviously, smoking hadn’t appeased me in the slightest and I had ended up in the closest restrooms, sobbing in despair as I had grasped the thin lace bracelet I hadn’t had the strength to take off yet.

Angela had helped me a lot. I had spent countless hours on the phone with her, smoking like a fireman, intoxicating myself with regrets as my best friend had tried to help me navigate through guilt and resentment. I had cursed myself for not seeing it coming. What had I been thinking dating a woman like her? What had I been thinking believing this could work? I had genuinely thought I could have made her happy. I was still convinced we were happy somehow. So when did it go so wrong? Had it been it my accident? Or work? How many times had I wished I could go back in time?

Time had not rewound but had passed, and time had helped. I had started to get better day after day. Not to say enjoyable, but life had seemed livable again. I had got used to the faded taste not leaving my mouth, smoking not helping, the cold gray weather of November matching my mood. But it had been the thing I had dreaded the most that had relieved me the most in the end: photography. The lights, the frame, the energy… through the lens, all my negative emotions were turning into beautiful frozen spectacles. Nothing really appealed to me anymore apart from taking pictures. Things happened or did not and I didn’t care and I clung to that remaining sparkle of energy photography was to me. 

During that month, I took thousands of photos, through numerous walks in town and countless nights in clubs. Dancing people had been growing on me. Their joy fascinated me, inaccessible, a mask hiding their own bruises. We were all bruised. It made me feel less bad knowing you could be bruised and beautiful. Bruises don’t show when you dance, let alone when you create something beautiful out of bruised dancing people. My camera had snapped restlessly the swirl of colorful blurry shapes and wild bodies. I had become a recognizable customer among the few lesbian clubs of the capital. I had met people, could have slept with some, except that I had no interest in hookups. I had not interest in anything else than capturing the frenzy of the night that swallowed everything. 

Being a photographer during the night had slowly helped me reconnect with my passion for sport photography during the day. I had realized I could turn the pain into vivid visual emotions there too. Moreover, my first exhibition was still up. So, work had turned back into the creatively challenging place I needed so much. Like a therapy, I hadn’t counted the hours, selecting shots, retouching, imagining the exhibition, the scenography… The players were just models. She was just another model, a particularly pretty model, nothing more. Almost. 

But today, in bone and flesh, jumping and diving even better than she did, she had been more. So much more than a model. Misa had made my numbness dissolve in a heartbeat. It had been a whole month and I felt so lost, smoking in the concrete corner. The last players exited the gray building as I waited, alone, for what exactly? To see her? She had to go out from a different exit because I hadn’t seen her. 

I exhaled the smoke deeply. Was I relieved? Disappointed? I didn’t know. What I did feel was the leap of my heart when the door opened once again, and the goalkeeper went outside, wrapped up into the club’s puffer jacket. 

She paused, looking all around her, until her eyes fell on me. My heart was caught in my throat, my hand frozen with the cigarette a few inches away from my mouth. She was nibbling at her lower lip. Obviously she was uncomfortable. But to my surprise, Misa started to walk toward me. I blinked just to be sure I wasn’t seeing things. I suddenly became aware of the coldness of the air. The wind messed her hair up until she joined me inside the shelter smoking area. 

She stopped in front of me, her hands in her pockets, looking at her feet.

“Hey“, she said.  

I had not heard her soft, roughened voice since then. Our goodbyes on the phone had been the last words exchanged.

“Hey“, I answered, amazed. 

“Eh… I have something to tell you. It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole team guessed the “misacertijo”. Everyone is convinced it’s you I was… seeing. I haven’t confirmed it, I said we’re just friends.“ 

“Oh, you said we are friends?“ I replied, an ironical smile stretching my lips. Misa lifted her gaze up. How weird it was to be that close to her and to look into her eyes. “I mean, it’s obvious that we’re not even friends anymore, right?” I pointed out. 

Of course everybody had guessed who Misa had been dating. We stopped seeing each other from one day to the next. The conclusion hadn’t been hard to make. 

“Eh… no. But you don’t speak to Hayley either. I said you took your distance with players. I wanted to tell you but you never showed up onto the pitch…” 

Something wriggled in my body as I searched about what to answer. I took a puff of cigarette. A gust of wind swept her hair and hauled her smell to me. I closed my eyes, the pain growing back, prickling. I couldn’t stand it. She had to go. 

“Hum… ok. Thanks for telling me.“ I acknowledged and Misa furrowed her brows. 

“You’re not worried about it?“

“Why should I worry? It’s over.“ I replied more bitterly than I wanted to. 

Misa gaze grew so intense it made my throat tighten. She had to stop looking at me like that. I took another puff, the only possible respite to avoid her penetrating look. She shifted her weight. 

“I heard your photo exhibition’s getting ready?“ 

My breathing quickened slightly. What was the fuck she was playing at, engaging in small talk as if nothing had happened. 

I looked away, uncomfortable. 

“Yes it is. It will take place near Gran Via. The opening night has been scheduled on the holidays’ eve.“ 

“Well done, I’m happy for you“, she said. 

I could feel her gaze burning on my face and I dared to glimpse at her. She looked unsure and…sad. Something hot and growling in my stomach stirred again. I could feel numb, or hurt. But I couldn’t feel sad again. Sadness was a forbidden feeling for me. Although, if there was something worse that feeling sad, it was seeing my own sadness on her face. 

My heart was screaming in pain. I had to make sadness go away…

“Thanks,“ I said, hoping the sound of the wind hid the trembling of my voice. “Congratulations to you too. Today’s practice was something. You seem to be doing great.“ 

Misa’s lips drew into the beginning of a smile, her brown eyes back onto mine.

“I’m working very hard, thanks.“

We locked eyes a moment, a moment while there seemed to be thousands of things going on inside her head. She opened and closed her mouth several times as I kept on smoking to hide my confusion. Of course, she was giving it all. She had always given it all. It was one of the things I loved the most about her…

“What about that?“ Misa asked finally, pointing at my cigarette with an evident disgust. 

It made me furious, suddenly, completely. I didn’t know at first, exactly why. I pursed my lips, my face hardening. I got it: her judgment about what I was doing with my life, a life she had chosen not to be part of, was the last thing I needed. Moreover, I was smoking again because of her! 

I looked away. 

“This is none of your business“, I replied coldly.

I crushed my roach in the ashtray, taking the path to the parking lot without another glance. 

And of course, back at home, I cried again for hours, like the whole month had been nothing. Like we had broken up yesterday.

***

That was it! I had just got the last batch of framed photographies, the only missing pieces for the exhibition! The opening was tomorrow and everybody had feared that the five large photos would never arrive. Due to the extremely short timing, I had gone fetch the frames myself at the printing company to keep them safely in my office at the Ciudad. I still had a few things to check with Eneko before going to the gallery. With the exhibition going on I had not been very present. The short filmmaker had been under a lot of pressure and I wanted to make sure he was going to be all right with all the tasks. Christmas time was a busy period. Everybody wanted their funny Christmas special challenge, their ugly jumper photo shoot or their corporate best wishes announcement, all of that on top of the exhibition’s install. Inma, Eneko and I couldn’t rest.

Phew! At least I had the prints now! I exhaled in relief and effort as I pulled the large frames out of my car. They were heavy and I struggled to find a good grip while being able to see where I put my feet. The glass doors of the building opened automatically, letting me inside and I managed to press the elevator button by touch. With my claustrophobia, I had genuinely wondered if I would risk my life more by taking the elevator than climbing the stairs with ten kilos of sight-blocking-forty-inches frames in my hands. The elevator had won. 

I stepped inside walking backward and felt movement near me, followed by the dialing sound of a button pressed. I could see nothing but I knew someone had entered as well. The doors closed themselves and the person spoke. 

“Bueno’ dia’, a cual piso va? Puedo ayudarle?”

The voice and the accent were unmistakeable, leaving me wordless. My hands began to slip along the craft paper wrapped frames and the weight lightened suddenly. The frames slid aside, revealing our faces. Misa’s surprise was so manifest I felt my heart leap again. 

“Er…Hi. Thanks.” I stuttered. “I guess you know what my floor is…” I added with an embarrassed smile. 

She smiled back mildly, her brown eyes resting on my face a second before she freed a hand to press the said floor button. Once again, I was totally confused by her proximity, but at least, I wasn’t focusing on being inside the elevator. 

Misa grabbed the frames back, lifting the weight off me completely. 

“It’s very heavy“, she simply said as I let her take the package. 

I bit my lip. She hadn’t changed, playing the good knight like I was some sort of fragile lady. 

I sighed heavily, getting more upset. Why was she doing that? Charming me? She was the one  who broke up and obviously she was doing fine without me. Her goalkeeping performances were back on top. 

“Eh… Nicky?“ She asked from behind the frames, sending a jolt through my body. I hadn’t heard her saying my name since two months now. “Can I… no, perdon… Are you okay if I come at the exhibition’s opening?”

The elevator stopped suddenly and everything went dark. 

No, no, no! Not that! 

“Mierda…“

I rested my back against the cabin wall. I couldn’t see a thing. All my senses were gone with a growing dread freezing my body. 

“Nicky! Don’t panic! It’s just a power cut.” 

There were rustling sounds of paper, punctuated by swear words, and a light appeared from Misa’s phone. I had not moved. I could not move, putting all my focus onto my breathing. 

You’re not trapped in the elevator.  Breathe. You’re not trapped in the elevator. Breathe. You’re not trapped…

But I sensed it coming. My hands were getting numb and my legs started trembling. I knew I was going to have a panic attack in a few seconds. 

“Please, let’s sit down.” Misa had leant the frames against the wall. 

She was close. So very close. I swallowed nothing. My chest hurt with the suffocating feeling of imprisonment. With no reaction from me, Misa took my hand. Her moves were gentle. I needed gentleness. I told myself to breathe again but I couldn’t find any air and my teeth began chattering. 

“I swear I’m not cold!“ I whined in panic. 

“Shhh, it’s ok. We sit down. It will pass“ She said guiding me all along as I crouched and sat onto the cabin floor. Now freed from the duty of keeping me standing, my legs were shaking so much it was scary. 

“It will pass,“ Misa repeated. Her thumbs brushed the back of my hands. I just realized I was holding hers like crazy. 

“Misa…” I muttered. I needed her. It was too hard. I needed her closer. “Misa, I can’t breathe!”

I pulled at her hands as tears of panic rolled onto my cheeks. 

The brunette slid closer and I grasped her strong arms, my breaths quickening. 

“Take deep breaths Nicky, I promise it will pass.” 

And she wrapped her arms over me.

“Take deep breathes, like this” she repeated, filling her lungs with air and making her chest rise against me. My heart was pulsing in my ears, making me feel more disoriented but I mimicked her, inhaling deeply. 

“Very well, now we blow out.” 

Again Misa exhaled. The smell of her breath reached me as I mirrored her. My face fell against her neck. Her smell wrapped another layer of herselfness all over me. It was working. My breathing had slowed and my chest felt less tense, but my sobs were unstoppable. Lost in her embrace, I just couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t even know why I was crying anymore. I just wanted to spill whatever needed to go out from my body. 

“It’s only a moment,“ Misa said softly, her palms brushing my back in an attempt to soothe me. “I’m sure we’ll be out soon now.“

But was I wanting it to be over soon? My hands had stopped shivering. I had closed my eyes. We could be anywhere now. We could be anytime. Maybe we were still we. It would make sense given that we were holding each other like we always did. But the power did go back on that instant, blowing up my desperate thoughts. The lights filled the tiny space, dazzling and the elevator’s automatic message announced blankly: “System launched successfully. Restart may take a few minutes." 

Frozen against Misa’s chest, I didn’t dare to move. 

“It’s over, you’ve been great.” The goalie patted my shoulder. 

I pulled back, wiping the tears from my eyes, breathless like after a run. I felt so drained I was unable to quit the shelter of her arms. Misa didn’t rush me. My eyes fell on hers, filled with their usual intensity, and travelled down to her mouth. Her lips were inches away, parted, waiting… Her eyes went shinier as I brought my face closer forgetting everything I had ever told myself since we broken up. I felt her hands pulling me closer and at that precise moment, when our lips were about to brush, the elevator motioned upward again. 

We parted in haste and got up just in time for the doors to open on the next floor. A lot of people were chatting in front of the cabin, they had probably met here when the power went down and were going back to their business. 

Shaky, Misa and I took the frames out of the elevator. 

“I’ll be ok. Thanks.“ I told the goalkeeper. After what had nearly happened, I needed my space now more than ever. 

“De nada. Oh, about the opening night… what do you think?“ Misa asked in a low voice. She was back to peering at her feet. 

I hesitated, in no ability to clear my confused thoughts. 

“See you tomorrow”, I replied finally with half a smile. 

***

Champagne and cocktails flowed freely while lounge music filled the vast reception hall. Bottles were opened and poured in stemmed glasses at an enticing rhythm, the loud pops creating a funny addition to the quiet notes in the background. But despite the wonderful decor, I was nervous. 

Of course, I was nervous. I wasn’t used to being under the spotlights, moreover in a foreign country, at a party of the most famous football club of the world. Ana was eagerly twitching beside me. It had been her idea to pair the exhibition’s opening with the traditional Christmas party. Every year the club organized a special event for employees, members and a well selected guest list. For this edition, the pairing had led them to choose a gallery in the center of the capital, with a vast reception room adjoining to it where the party would take place later. It was meant to be quite a show. On her side, Ana had been very attentive to be seen as the thinking head of all of this. But for now, she, Inma, Eneko and I, were standing in a neat line facing the entrance to welcome the guests. 

The first ones to arrive were a group of employees from the commercial department, quickly followed by some of the players.  Everybody had put on their best outfit in a demonstration of good and not so good taste. Olga was in a rather odd dress-suite but Maelle wore a smart sparkling skirt and a white shirt.

As for me, I had spent hours deciding what to wear for that prestigious occasion. I didn’t want to be too formal but not too relaxed either. Thus, I had sent dozens of very doubtful selfies in front of the mirror to Angela.

“Nicky, we talked about this a hundred times, you’re not wearing a shirt!“, Angela had said on the speaker. 

“I have nothing else! All the tops I have are shirts or T shirts!“

“Go for a dress then! The dark blue one, you look stunning in it!“

“But I never wear dresses, I feel weird in a dress…“ I had moaned, searching the pile of clothes. 

“You said you didn’t want to wear pants either, that it was too common! You said you wanted to stand out but in a good way… That were your precise words and we both know what you want deep down…“ 

I had rolled my eyes. “Well, I don’t! You do?“ 

“You want to be sexy as hell so you can impress everyone this evening“, she had answered.

My brain had instantly pictured the face of the goalkeeper gagging, looking at a very attractive version of me. My lips had stretched into a smile and I had surrendered, “Ok, I’m trying the blue one again, but I’m not putting stilettos. I hate stilettos… What about boots?“ 

“Humm, with heels if you want your outfit to remain chic….“

I had dug out a pair of ankle high varnished black boots with medium heels I had had probably bought for some kind of party and worn two or three times in my life. I had put them on, shoved my hair to the side and sent a photo of my reflection to Angela. 

“You’re stunning Nicky!  it’s giving an Im-good-on-my-own-boss-girl-and-look-at-what-you-lost vibe. I say perfect.“

“Perfect“, I had echoed. 

So here I was, wearing a silky dark blue dress and heeled boots, casually chatting with people, a cup of champagne in one hand and a small bag in the other, giving a very worldly version of Nicky to the now crowded place. I didn’t know where to look, everybody greeted me, congratulated me. I shook hands of people I had no idea who they were, explained my work dozens of times and emptied several glasses far too quickly. 

An hour or so had passed and I was in a long conversation about my vision of sport photography with a journalist named Franck when Misa arrived. She hadn’t overdressed. She was wearing simple brown suit pants and a silver long sleeve top. I followed her from the corner of my eyes, watching her looking around, clearly searching for something or someone in the crowd. 

She took a glass, her moves unsure, and looked a moment at the photographs hung on the walls. She was getting closer when she turned her head. Our eyes finally met. Her lips parted slightly before she closed them again and looked away. Misa had always been pretty bad at hiding her emotions. 

A second later she had disappeared into the crowd and I excused myself to Franck, unable to talk or listen anymore. Knowing Misa was there had troubled me, a now usual feeling. I quickly exited the hall to the terrace to light up a cigarette, took a few puffs and breathed in relief the sweet poison filling my lungs. It was a pitiful compensation. I had not felt the satisfaction I had expected when she had seen me. I didn’t know anymore what I wanted her to feel. Impressed? Angry? Sad? She had definitely seemed sad rather than impressed or angry.

As a matter of fact, so was I now, smoking on the terrace on my own. Back then, I had dreamt to celebrate the opening of my first exhibition with her. 

With her…

I pulled at my cigarette, forcing my mind to go blank again, my now well known strategy to retain some of my sanity, when I heard a soft voice close by.

Her voice. 

“Léa please don’t…“

She was probably just around the corner, only a few feet away, still she could not see me and I could not see her.

“Why not, I like you Misa. And you like me“, Léa’s assured voice replied. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t like you like this…“ 

I was frozen, torn between hearing what I shouldn’t and knowing what was going to happen. 

“Don’t you think it could change?“

“I…I don’t know Léa… I don’t think so.“

There was a silence during which I dared to pull at my cigarette. 

“It’s her, right? You’re still in love with her?“ The low, sad voice of Léa inquired. 

My heart was drumming in my chest, my hurt and mangled soul hanging on her answer as I held my breath for what seemed the longest seconds of my life.

“Of course I still love her“, Misa’s broken voice echoed in the cold night. 

Starting over In Madrid - Season 2

Chapter 14 ➺ The fall

Summary: A new season begins for Nicky, the newly promoted photography director of Real Madrid. Navigating her new responsibilities while maintaining her secret relationship with Misa is not easy on a daily basis, especially when the unpredictability of life keeps making things even more complicated.

WC: 7K words TW: angst, sex +18

Chapter 12 ➺ Better and bitter Chapter 13 ➺ Dangerous steps

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

I was caught in the fog and I didn’t really get why Hayley was entering my hospital room. I could see her face clearly though and it was betraying her anxiousness. 

The bright vivid lights tinted the place with a gloomy atmosphere, an ironical contrast with the poster of a child playing at the beach hung on the wall. My eyes had fallen on the frame each time I had woken up, the random boring picture was now printed on my retina. My phone had died long ago, probably while I was taken to the block and with no charger I could only wait for someone to visit me and bring me the precious device that could connect me to the world. 

Anyway, I had slept the whole time, barely awake when nurses had come to check on me every now and then. Everything was going good. My wounds had been stitched and the test results showed no sign of head trauma or broken bones. I had been appeased to know the clinic had contacted my parents to reassure them as well.

Fortunately I was in no state to be stressed out, the drugs doing more than their job. I had felt a little helpless, shaken by my accident, but sleep had taken me back as soon as I had started to wonder how things were going for the team and for Misa. 

I couldn’t fight sleep. Even now as I blinked and swallowed, trying painfully to find my way through the fog, my mouth dry and my limbs heavy. Hayley’s visit was lighting my gloomy bedroom with her friendly presence, although coming alone, she was revealing the absence of the person I wanted to see the most. 

“Here you are Nicky!” My friend greeted me, smiling mildly. 

“Hey.. yeah”, I replied in a slurred voice as the Aussie came at my bedside.

“Sweetie, in what a state you are…”, she said patting my shoulder with a pout. “I fell on the doctor. Seven stitches on the arm and three on the left side of your waist, she said. Nothing’s broken and the scanner’s good too. You’ll probably count the bruises tomorrow though” Hayley broke a smile. “I already knew you were all right, of course. You can imagine we called the clinic as soon as the match ended.” 

I remembered Misa's distress suddenly. Her anxious face too was printed in my mind. I opened my mouth but Hayley went on before I could speak. “We lost. 1 to 3”. 

Silence filled the room as we gazed at each other, our looks heavy with what the score implied. 

“Where’s…”

“Misa.” The winger finished. “Hum, everything has been hard for her, she… it’s too risky for her to come right now”, Hayley answered, taking my hand in hers. 

I fought the fog taking me again, my mouth parched. 

“Hayley, tell me what happened…Please.”

The winger sighed but her voice was calm, “When they took you away, well, Misa did her best to act normal. We were all shocked and scared for you of course but she cares about you like a girlfriend does and she had a really hard time refocusing on the match…”

I closed my eyes. My head was spinning and I reopened them at once, shifting my position onto the bed. I grasped my wrist in a reassuring gesture, feeling the Canarian bracelet under my thumb. I’m really spoiling everything, I thought sadly.

Hayley seemed to hear my silent despair. “Nobody’s mad about you Nicky, Misa the least!” 

“Why didn’t she come with you?” I asked, not getting why I was being left alone when I needed her here so badly.

“To protect you Sweetie. Lea’s figured it out about you two. Misa told me. She got it as soon as Misa rushed at your side and looked completely panicked when she saw you lying on the floor covered in blood. She really tried to hide it when you were gone but a close friend could tell she was upset. During the game, Misa did some pretty bad mistakes, and on that part, anybody could tell it wasn’t her night. Misa and I met shortly in the empty staff room after the game ended and we agreed I’d visit you not to draw more attention to her. I had to skip the debrief to be able to come during visit hours. She wants to call you soon though — speaking of that…” Hayley pulled a charger out of her bag and dropped it onto my bed table. “Here! You know when you’ll be out?” 

“They’re going to check me tomorrow morning, I hope I’ll be free to go…”, I sighed and blinked, Hayley helping me to plug my phone into the charger.

“Great, Misa asked me to tell you she’s going to pick you up. I know you want to talk to her but I think you should go back to sleep. You look terribly tired Nicky. I’ll call Misa to let her know you’re fine.” 

“Yes, sleep…” I stuttered, it was becoming really hard to fight it. My mind was back in a thick cloud. “Tell Misa I miss her…”

“I will. Take care, sweetie” the Aussie brushed my hair affectionately. 

Her footsteps sounded like a distant noise from somewhere far from the room. Sleep swallowed me back a heartbeat later.

***

Her almond eyes. Her cute nose. Her plump lips. 

I blinked. Was she really here? 

Her whole face was so close I could see the grainy complexion of her skin, showing with the soft reddish light of dawn that soaked the hospital room. I blinked several more times, dazed, the fog dismissing itself as I woke up properly for the first time since the accident. 

“Buenos dias, Azucari” she greeted me. Her lips fell and stayed onto my forehead. 

“Misa!” I exclaimed reaching for her face. Immediately, pain awoke in various parts of my body. 

“He he, easy, mi Nicky,” she said. I winced. Her rough fingers stroked my cheek. Her brown eyes were on me. The pain didn’t bother me. All I cared about was her smell filling my lungs. 

“How are you feeling?“ she asked.

“Much better than yesterday. Much better like this.“ I confessed, rolling — not without difficulties — onto my side to snuggle against her. 

Everything felt so right under her gentle caresses, and breathing in her scent, I was tempted to go back to sleep. As she didn’t speak any more, I started to doze off, soothed, my body molded to fit the warm embrace of her arms. 

Misa. I missed you so much. 

Suddenly, I remembered what Hayley had told me about the game, about what had happened and a storm of guilt broke over my head, dismissing sleep as fast as a blink of the eye.

 “Misa! I’m so sorry!“ I mumbled, grasping her sweater. 

“What are you taking about Nicky?“

Her smell was so appeasing, but imagining what she endured was stabbing like a thorn.

“The match…you lost… because of me…” I said, my face buried against her torso. 

“You’re not responsible Cari, I don’t blame you.“

Her palms brushed my arm and she laid another kiss onto my forehead.

“You know that I do, indirectly. Our whole situation does.“ 

Misa stayed silent a moment while her large hands kept stroking me. Her smell. Her wonderful smell continued to smooth me even if my heart was beating faster, waiting for her to speak. 

“It was a little hard… Not what happened to you. I mean of course I was scared for you, but what was harder was to hide everything. I had no news for hours… I didn’t know what to do. I just could do nothing. I couldn’t deal with not knowing about you and faking to care about the rest...” 

She sighed heavily, and hugged me a little tighter. 

“I’m so sorry baby…“ I repeated.

“Don’t be. You’re safe and that’s all that matters”.

Three knocks echoed onto the door and, modest, Misa parted from me.

“Buenos dias!“ The nurse entered with a breakfast trolley and various medical equipment. “We’ll do a complete check up today. How was the night?“

“I slept like a baby“ I confessed, straightening up. 

“Perfecto! Give me your arm please.” 

The nurse took my tension, my temperature and examined the entire collection of my bruises. She ended up checking the wounds. 

“You have to change your dressings every two days. I can show you how to do it but it seems difficult for you to reach your scars. You can ask for a nurse to do it for you at home“

“Puedo hacerlo por ella…“ Misa, who had been waiting by the wall, had stepped forward timidly. 

“Si, por supuesto puedes! Te muestro. Please lie on your front.“ She added toward me. 

“What did you say” I asked her. 

“I can change your dressing if you’re okay with it…?” 

“Oh” I blurted out. Misa had the timid look on her face she always had when she was unsure of herself or out of her comfort zone. She was so adorable, and so caring I bit my lip to prevent myself from whining. “You sure?” I inquired guiltily. I didn’t know how I could deal with Misa taking care of me on the top of everything. 

But her hesitation was gone. “I’m pretty sure about it. On your front!”

I rolled over to let them have a better access to the scar on my back. 

“Bueno, coges el vendaje muy delicadamente ….”

They went on in full Spanish. I grasped a few words but it wasn’t really paying attention to it. My mind was focused on the delicate touch of the brunette, and on her attentive listening. I took a glimpse of her concentrated features. My heart tightened and I closed my eyes, the scar prickling when she sprayed it with sanitizer. I was feeling safe under her care as her strong hands pressed the new dressing lightly as a feather onto the wound. 

“Muy bien Senora. Una infermera de verdad.” The nurse told the footballer before speaking to me. “Everything’s fine. I feel like you’ll be free to go once you’ve seen the doctor. You’ll be off work for two weeks.”

“Wonderful… wait what?” I froze, remembering the huge amount of work waiting for me.

“You can’t work in your current state. The wounds have to heal.”

“But but… I can’t stay off work this long, not now” I stared at the nurse with disbelief.

“Nicky, of course you can! What are you talking about?” Misa stepped in. 

I shot her an accusatory glance. Why was she intervening? This was not even concerning her…

The nurse laid a comforting hand onto my arm. “You’ve been sedated and the cuts are deep. You don’t realize it now but you’ll be very tired. Plus we advise minimum movement to ensure healthy clean scars and to avoid any infection. That comes with resting.” 

Her tone was full of compassion but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being grounded like a child.

“Alright, I’ll send the doctor. Have a prompt recovery and most of all, rest” she repeated, glancing behind me.

“Puede confiar en mi ”  Misa answered.

***

“You’re here at last!" I exclaimed when the goalkeeper crossed the front door. “Did you get my SD card?“

“Yep, but first and foremost I’ve got lunch for both of us” she cheered, shoving a craft bag in the air.

“Great. Give me the card please, I’m so late on this!“ 

Dropping the meal onto the kitchen table, Misa huffed, “No I won’t, Nicky!” 

“Are you kidding me?!” I freaked out, arms crossed. 

Misa crossed her arms as well, her gaze burning.

“I’ll give you nothing until I’ve changed those dressings and you’ve eaten something!“

“Come on Mis’! I’m weeks late with those visuals! I have to get them done tonight!“

But the brunette didn’t move. 

“You know I strongly disapprove of you work during your recovery, so, if you want your SD card, you let me take care of your wounds. I’ll wash my hands. Lie on the couch.”

I moaned, frustrated, but obeyed, knowing deep down Misa was right, and I heaved myself onto the sofa. Moving was still painful, especially the affected arm. Misa sat beside me and put a box of medical stuff onto her lap. The smell of sweat and grass clung to her, witch led me to assume she had not taken the time to shower and had come right after training.  

“Vale, I’ll start with the worst one…“

She took my arm carefully and fiddled with the corner of the plaster.

“Ow! You were softer last time!”, I whimpered as Misa tried to remove the dressing.

“Perdón Nicky, but it’s stuck!” she apologized. She scratched the dressing from a different angle. “Better?” 

I nodded. Both of us were relaxing, allowing her to slowly pull the piece of medical tape apart from the skin. When she had removed the old dressing, she put sanitizer on a cotton pad to clean the long cut.

“Does it hurt?” she asked as she applied the cotton to the still fresh stitches. 

“No, it’s just a little sensitive now. Moving’s more painful.” 

“It would be less so if you stuck to what the doctors told you. You shouldn’t be working. Even from home.”

“We’ve talked about this. There are things to handle. The Copa de la Reina starts next month and we have nothing. And my photo exhibition? If nothing moves, Ana’s going to cancel it.“

The goalie continued to clean my wound in silence. I watched her brows twitch or lift now and then, her plump lips pinching like they usually did when she was focusing on something. After a couple of minutes of both of us saying nothing, she started singing absentmindedly. 

“Porque desde que estás aquí

Aquí cerca de mí

Que tú eres mi baby

Y ese recuerdo de tenerte sin ropa

Que no me deja dormir

Sigo pensando en ti

Que tú eres mi baby

Y ese recuerdo de tenerte sin ropa”

I recognized the song from our holidays in Formentera. Her warm voice was like water, slowly running down, soothing me. Her voice was softer than most Spanish people’s. I focused on that, on her softness, her careful gestures, her worries about my state. I knew I had not been nice to her since she arrived tonight. 

“Misa, can I ask you something?” I said, wanting to break the ice.

“Si, claro.” 

“Why do I feel like you don’t talk like other Spaniards? Do you have an accent?” 

The question made her chuckle.

“Es el acento canario! We skip a lot of letters like the letter S. For example, I don’t say España but E’paña. “Mas goles“ — more goals — is ma’ gole’“. Come on, this dressing is done. Lie on your stomach, I’ll clean your back’s stitches”. 

“Ohh! That’s why I thought nothing was plural for you ahahah! Ouch!“ I winced again, the scar on my back was still sore. “Tell me something else about Canarias.” I inquired, curious about her birthplace and wishing to focus on something rather than the pain.

“You already know my island is Gran Canaria, the round one. We have a microclimate in Canaria’, it’s 25 degrees and sunny almost all year. La’ Palma’ is one of the biggest cities of E’paña.” 

Now that she’d explained it, I noticed every missing S in her way of speaking.

“Oh nice! Is there a metro or tramway in Las Palmas?” 

“No but our wawa network works well!” Misa answered proudly. 

I didn’t understand what she was talking about so I repeated interrogatively, “Wawa?” 

“Jaja, yes, we call our buses Wawa’ and again I’m not really pronouncing the letter G, you spell it G-U-A-G-U-A.”

“Guagua”, I echoed. 

“I love mi i’la - my island - I love Madrid too but it’s not the same and my entire family is there…”

Misa started to put compresses and tape over my second wound with much care. But there was something else behind her concentration. Something sad about her. I realized I had not even asked her if she was okay…

“How things are going at the ciudad for you?” I said more quietly. 

“Fine.” She replied, nibbling at her lips suddenly, an evident sign of nervousness. 

I fidgeted on the sofa. 

“What’s wrong Mis’?” 

“Stop wiggling Nicky, I’m not done…” 

But she was not going to get on with it. I deliberately shoved her away from my back. 

“Misa, I can tell something’s not right. What is it?” I said softly but firmly.

“Vale..” She agreed, lifting her brown eyes toward mine. “Humm, I suck” she simply says. 

“Why are you saying that, baby?”

She took a deep breath.

“I’m not doing well enough, the coach told me. I’ve already been pushed out of the national team, I can’t fuck it up at Madrid as well. I’ve nothing else to say, come on let me finish covering that cut, it’s not safe.” 

She made me lie back onto the sofa, chewing her bottom lips with more intensity. 

“Fuck baby, I didn’t know it was this bad…” I began, I had been so obsessed about my own state and work I had been completely blind about Misa. I hesitated, guilt chocking me again, “You do seem very nervous to me these days…” 

She huffed, furrowing her brows. 

“Dio’ Nicky! Of course I’m nervous! Do you realize what I’m going through? I’m worried sick about you since your accident! During the game, when it happened, I couldn’t be there for you and nobody was there for me. The coach spoiled me during half time and the girls, they saw I was acting weird. Everybody got there was something going on between you and me but fortunately, it’s no secret that you, Hayley and I are friends and I think Hayley truly saved us by visiting you at the hospital… but that was so close! I thought we’d be caught and I didn’t even know if you were ok in the first place! All I was hearing was how shitty my performance was! And now? Now my recovering girlfriend isn’t healing well because she refuses to rest! Like her job’s more important than her health! More important that anything else…“ she concluded bowing her head, back to biting her lips. “Come on, this dressing is done. You can have your SD card if you want”.

I straightened up, swallowing what she had said.

“Misa…” I began, taking her hands in mine. They were warm like always, her fingers tips twitching against my palms. My guts knotted themselves under the sad stare of the young brunette. “We both know we…“

The directive tone of my phone-ring split the silence, making both of us jump in fear. 

I glanced at the screen. 

No surprise. 

Ana.

“I gotta answer,“ I sighted apologetically, grabbing my cellular. 

Misa sent the device a hard stare, “Por supuesto…“  

“Hello Ana?“

“Hello Nicky, thanks god you’ve picked up! I’ve sent you a brief about La Copa de la Reina, we can’t wait any longer to have some elements to work with. Of course I’m not asking you to do it while you’re off but can you put one of your assistant on it? And there is a meeting at 11’ tomorrow with the designer team I really think you should not miss, you could attend in Visio so it would not be too tiring for you. What do you think? And please tell your camera assistant to film with a wider angle before we go abroad on Tuesday. The last shots were close to good to nothing. Is it okay for you?”

“Hum yes. I’ll do my best.“ I said though I had barely registered what she’d told me. I sensed a bad headache growing behind my temple. 

“You’re the best Nicky. I knew I could count on you. I can’t wait for you to get back with us, we need you here. Take care of you.“

“Thanks Ana…“ I answered weakly, fatigue weighting onto my shoulders with the furious look of the goalkeeper tracking me as I paced the living. 

“Oh Nicky, wait…” Ana interjected before I hung up. “ I have to ask you something. I’ve heard nonsense about you dating a player from the female football team. That’s rubbish, of course?“

“W…what?” I stammered.

My eyes founds Misa’s. Her confusion mirroring my silent panic. 

“The rumor of you being with one of our girls, it’s false right?” Ana insisted.

Breath. Nicky, breath. How she knew? Who had told her? Was it that obvious? 

Misa straitened up, her gaze burning with incomprehension and I managed to react at last.

“Nonsense… Yeah. I don’t know where that comes from.”  My own voice assured, distant and detached when my heart had doubled its beating. 

“Someone from the marketing department mentioned it when we were talking about you. Anyway great, I’m relieved! Have a good evening, Nicky.”

I hung up, and stayed frozen in the middle of the room.

“She just asked me if I’m dating a player… They are rumors. In spite of all our efforts… she knows…” my voice broke.

“Hey hey hey,” the goalie caught me in her arms as the first tears rolled down my cheeks. “It’s not that bad. She believed you, right?”

“I don’t know! I’m tired! I’m so tired Misa”! I cried, pressing against her chest.

“It’s okay Azucri, it’s okay… we don’t have to deal with it now. You’re off work. Nobody’s going to ask you more questions about it!” 

I tried to speak but words were drown into sobs. Stress was saturating me, penetrating every inch of my body. “I can’t! I can’t deal with everything going on! I’m so tired…“ I managed to cry out.

“Shhh. Estoy aquí Nicky, I’m here. Let it go, you’re exhausted.“ Misa’s slow and steady speaking channelled a part of my emotions. The strong smell of sweat that was so hers helped me to remain grounded here, in her arms, rather than swept away by panic. 

She continued softly. “First, we’re going to eat something, vale? And then I’ll give you your SD card. We’ll take things slow. I can help you select some photos?“ 

How was she doing, saying exactly what I needed to hear? Being anything I needed her to be right now…

“I love you…“ I sobbed, wrapping my arms around her. “I love you so much!“

Misa held me to her chest.

“Shhh, I love you more.“ She whispered.

My heart felt so heavy, its load barely bearable. Misa… I felt like she was going to be taken from me. I knew my heart wouldn’t stand it… I had to quit Real Madrid. Yet I was about to make it in my photographer career. I only needed a few months but it looked like I wouldn’t be granted this extra time. The more time passed the more suspected we were becoming. The conclusion left me inert, drained from turning things over and over in my head, trying to align the pieces of an impossible puzzle. 

I snuggled against the brunette, taking in her beautiful face. Her sad eyes bore into mine when our lips met. The salty tang of tears penetrated our kiss.

“I love you so much,” I repeated, sadness and stress changing into desperation as my fingers dug into her training jersey. 

She applied her lips to my temple  “Estoy aqui, I’m here!” 

I stayed a little longer crying against her, the sobbing easing with the delicate touch of the young goalie. 

Panic was gone but had left me exhausted. Soreness burned in my chest as I kissed Misa again, fully, engaging my whole being into our making out, my hands trailing along her flanks in an attempt to pull her even closer. The brunette exhaled deeply, her hands grasping my face. 

“Te quiero mucho…” she murmured, her fingers gently wiping the tears away. 

My lips fell on hers again, insistent, demanding, and I instinctively gripped the hem of her sweater to pull it upward.

“Hummm?” Her wordless moan questioned against my lips. 

I nodded, barely breaking our kiss, letting my body tell her what I needed. Her taste filled my mouth, hot, our kiss pausing only to let me pull off her jersey. It wasn’t feverish, it was intense. I needed her, whole, and nothing else. 

Misa pulled back, “We shouldn’t. In your current state…“ 

“I really don’t care” I yelped, swallowing her warning. 

I straddled her lap, pulling off her sport bra which joined her sweater onto the floor. Her plump lips wrapped themselves around mine, her almond eyes casting their tender, intense, chestnut light on me. 

Losing myself in her, my fingertips brushed the soft shape of her breast as my kisses grazed over the column of her neck and descended to her collar bone. Her skin was slightly sticky here, its smell intoxicating. I filled my lung with it, sighing my irrepressible need of her, and my nose grazed the flower tattooed along her sternum. The scar on my back itched as I bent over but I ignored it. I ran my lips over her breast, licking my way through her gasps, her hands losing themselves into my hair when the first aroused moans escaped her lips. 

I sucked her nipples gently. She tasted of sweat. Its tang was salty and lasting in my mouth. It wasn’t really good but it was hers, and right now, it was all that mattered to me. She pulled my face back to hers, our mouthes finding each other again in a twirl of kisses and sadness we couldn’t shake off as we grasped each other desperately. We were not daring to stop our making out, committed in our kiss like we were about to be pulled apart at any moment.

“I love you,“ Misa panted and slipped her hand under my pants. 

 A shiver ran through my body at the sudden contact over my lips. How easy it was to forget myself into her touch. It was urgent, almost rushed, her fingers slipping through my folds as my tongue swirled against hers. 

Misa. Her touch. Tears and pleasure. Everything was blurring so fast in my mind, love and enjoyment merging with sadness in a melancholic blend. I knew I was not going to last long but tonight above all night, coming without her was unthinkable.

“Slow down” I whispered, my hand coming over hers. Her wet, questioning look glazed my face as I led my hand under the waistband of her training pants. 

A small naughty smile curled her lips and she rose her hips to let me pull off her pants. We finished to undress each other slowly, careful not to mess with the two large plasters covering my wounds, Misa’s moves were infinitely gentle, slipping her hands under my T shirt and unhooking my bra. Then, she laid down onto the tiny couch to pull me over her. I couldn’t tear my eyes from her face, soft, beautiful, and my fingers slid down her stomach as I watch her lips part and tremble. 

She welcomed my caresses by a soft moan, her own hand mirroring me without delay. Her fingers circled my clit, her other hand falling onto the small of my back to pull me upward.

“Misa…“ I sighed, overwhelmed, her fingers pursuing their mission. 

She opened her mouth but I silenced her with a new tremendous kiss, my thighs pushing against hers, seeking more of her hand to accentuate the pressure. An insatiable hunger had taken over me. Making love with her, we were knotting our souls together into one bundle nobody could tear apart and that thought made me feel insanely good. Still I needed more of her. I needed her own enjoyment. I needed her to fall apart like I was about to. 

My fingers met her pussy again, wet, blazing, and she let slip a tormented sound inside my mouth. I found her clit and flickered it slowly, careful to brush that spot I knew she liked very much. A cry of longing inhabited the room. I loved that cry. It was both a reward and a way to the bliss. 

“Cry for me baby…“ I whispered against her neck, my index copying her circular moves, “I’m close. Come with me!“

Misa let out another loud moan.

“Espera un poco… Wait“ she asked.

Her hips thrust into my hand to set the right pace, a faster one which her own fingers followed as well, pressing slightly less onto my pussy. 

“Fuck…” I sighed, sensing the waves of joy still approaching. “Can’t wait…“ I warned.

Misa grasped my chin, breath short, sweat numbing her upper lips and her almond eyes locked onto mine.

“Come mi amor, just look at me.“ She said, the softness of her voice unbearable.

Her thumb fell onto my clit as she slid two fingers inside. I didn’t even need any of this, her loving eyes were more than doing there job.

“Misa!“ I cried, the simultaneous sensations pushing me toward the release. 

Her gaze snapped something inside me. I shouted her name several times yet I couldn’t stop the pleasure from hitting me like a thunderstorm. My legs gave away. My body crashed onto the spaniard while moaning more obscene sounds. 

When I was finally able to straighten up again, I found myself locked inside the arms of the goalie, her face hidden into the crook of my neck as I felt her chest trembling under my body. 

“Misa?” 

The goalie stayed silent, her chest rose up as she took a deep breath. 

“Misa!“ I called again, fidgeting to free myself from her grip. 

I pulled back discovering the goalie’s face stricken with tears. 

“I came too…“ She sobbed, hiding her face back in her hand. “Please…“ She added, pulling me back against her. 

Taken aback, I nested myself back into her arms, pressing my forehead against her. 

“I got you.” I said, pulling her closer. 

 Her arms surrounded my waist and she hugged me tight, my fingers rubbing through her hair.

“Are you going to be alright on your own when I’ll be abroad with the team?” She asked. She sounded liked she had stopped crying but sadness hadn’t left her face.

“I’ll be fine, baby. Really Misa, do not worry about me, okay?” I insisted, dreading to be the reason of an other goalkeeping catastrophe.

“Can you promise me you’ll rest?”

We straitened up on the couch and Misa glared at me, not bothering to wipe her wet eyes. Guilt surged inside me thinking how caring she was. What was I bringing to her apart from problems and worries? What choice did I really have about work? My boss counted on me and I secretly counted on my exhibition to really launch my career. Misa seemed to guess my unease and frowned slightly.

“I promise,“ I lied.

She hugged me once again, sighing. “Gracias…“ 

I held her tight, beating myself up for having lied to her. I focused onto my goal. My finger tips smoothed the furrowed brows of the goalkeeper who closed her eyes, my little touches on her face soothing her. 

I will resign for you, Misa, I promise you I will. I just need to last four more months as photography director, a first exhibition, to prop up my CV. I’ll look for a new job then. We’ll be together for real. We’ll be happy…

The warm voice of the goalkeeper pulled me out of my reveries. “Please Cari, let’s eat. I don’t know about you but I’m starving…“ 

She just made me realize for the second time of the day how bad I was neglecting her. 

***

A few days later, I settled in front of the TV with a backache from sitting all day. As expected, I had not been able to keep my promise of taking some rest. Ana had drowned my assistants with reviews, asking for adjustment after adjustment. In the end, I had had no choice but to come to their rescue and do the job myself. I suspected my boss of putting them through hell so I wouldn’t dare to imagine extending my sick leave. 

Anyway, I had finally put work aside to enjoy a quiet evening at home and was bracing myself for the kick off of the third Champion’s League match: Juventus versus Real Madrid, a meal on my lap and fresh soda in hand. 

The whistle blew and the match began nicely. Straight from the start, Caroline Weir rushed past the Italian defenders, aiming for Signe Brunn, Signe striking hard and sending the ball soaring. The ball rebounded off the fists of the goalkeeper Pauline Peyraud-Magnin, yet, Caroline had moved forward and was in the best position to recover it. Quick and precise, she managed to kick it right into the net before the goalkeeper had the time to dive for it. 

The Madrid players and I burst into joy. I jumped from the sofa in triumph, too fast, awakening a prickling around the wound on my waist. I couldn’t care less. All I wanted was the game making the team and Misa feel great again. 

The match resumed and the ball was given back to Juventus. They lost it again a few passes later and the following minutes were a succession of lost balls and touches, both goalkeepers having very little to do. 

On the 35th minute, Sofia Cantore managed to get in between Rocio and Olga and ended up doing a nice center, recovered by Cristiana Girelli who shot right at the left goal corner. Misa jumped high toward the ball but could do nothing but stare helplessly as it landed at the back of the net. Cheers from the crowd. Silence on the Madrid side. The shot had been neat and strong, really hard to stop but Misa pulled a face. Her clean sheet was gone. In need to prove herself after the catastrophe against Madrid CFF, I knew she felt it heavier tonight. 

The occasion presented itself soon. When the Italian forward Sofia Cantore escaped on her own right after the goal kick, going back straight to the cage, Misa readied herself for the shot. At the last minute, she decided to come out of the penalty area, rushing at the footballer coming to her at full speed with the ball rolling at her feet. But it went wrong. Sofia dribbled the goalie quite easily and shot right into the cage. As such, Real Madrid took its second goal. 

My stomach began to knot, Misa had completely mistimed coming off her line and her mistake had been hardly punished for having taking the risk of leaving her cage exposed. The whistle blew for halftime and the players walked toward the locker room. The camera lasted a moment on the goalie’s tense face, her jaw clenched, frustrated and angry. She knew that goal was on her and like every goalkeeper those goals were the worst to swallow.

Fortunately, the second half started much better, Caroline and Linda managing to score respectively at the 61th and 79th minute, but the wind clearly changed again past the 85th minute. Juventus managed to get a corner, shooting it nicely to the waiting head of Estelle Cascarino, her header aiming for the second goal post. Misa jumped, arms stretched to the maximum. The tips of her gloves hit the ball but the angle was unfortunate. The ball rebounded inside the cage. Misa had just conceded an own goal. 

I shrank into the couch, afraid. Clearly, something was not right with the young goalie. I had not the time to dig on the taught though. Juventus had taken the ball back toward Misa’s cage, Misa bracing herself for another attack. Hopefully, Maelle Lakrar nicely tackled the Italian striker and the ball rolled to Olga’s feet. But the defender was under the constant pressing of Cantore, stopping her to clear the ball away. After a few unsuccessful dribbles, Olga finally decided to pass it back to Misa. Girelli sprinted toward the goalkeeper, forcing Misa to do a rushed clearance to scare the danger away. However, Misa shot straight in front of the cage and her pass was intercepted by the midfielder Ariana Caruso, sending the ball high in the air. Misa followed the ball running backward, ready to catch it but it descended at hand level right behind her. She jumped. The tips of her gloves missed the ball only to see it coming down inside the net. 

I didn’t want to watch anymore. Misa was lying on the grass, the Italian player and crowd roars filled the stadium. The filming didn’t allow me to see more of Misa’s despair. I didn’t need it to know it was bad. She wasn’t well at all. 

I cleared the remaining of my meal and did the dishes, my mind clouded. I heard the whistle signal the game end. Three to four. Misa had taken four goals facing a clearly dominated team. Three of them could have been avoided at the least. 

It was bad. I had never seen her play like that. 

I didn’t know what to do. Usually I was with her at the stadium, gathering my photography equipment before waiting for her in a desert corridor or at the parking lot. After a bad game, just a glance at the goalie would reassure or worry me. I would act depending on her state. I could read very well when Misa preferred to be left alone, or when she’d seek the confort of a shared bedroom during the night afterward. But tonight, for the first time, I wasn’t there and I felt like we were both on our own. 

So, I waited for her call. 

Minutes. 

Hours.  

It was nearly 1 in the morning and I had no call, no message. My heart sank.

At 2’ o clock, I could stand no more. I grabbed my phone. The dialing sound lasted. Angst gripped my limbs as I wondered if she was going to pick up. 

“Hola…”

The goalie answered, finally. Her voice was so hoarse she couldn’t be sleeping. Had she been crying? 

“Fuck Misa! I was so worried… you didn’t call… I saw the match, I know you’ll be brooding but please tell me…how are you?”

“Buah, not very well I guess…” she said before sniffing.

I sensed my saliva dry in my mouth. Silence settled between us as I waited for her to go on, however, she said nothing else, thus I inquired with caution, “Sweetie… I know it must be hard. Is there anything I can do?”

I heard her sniff again. 

“Eh… no, I… we…”

She sighted heavily and angst gripped me a little more. 

“I can’t…” she began but stopped to let a rasping breath.

My gusts knotted around themselves as I stayed floating in the awful quietness. I knew what was coming next. Dread crushed me. I muttered a voiceless prayer, not daring to speak, wanting nothing more than to stop the time and space so it wouldn’t happen.

“I think we should stop.”

If only I could have been wrong. 

Silence settled again and I could only hear the loud and fast beats of my heart. I swallowed almost nothing, my mouth dryer than after a run. 

“What…?” I asked stupidly. 

“Lo siento mucho”, her broken voice sobbed through the phone. 

“Please…don’t. Misa, please!“ I didn’t know what I was saying anymore. Nobody had ever saved their relationship by asking their partner not to break up during a phone call. But here I was, begging Misa with all being, begging her to keep me into the light because the sun was about to sink for good.

“Por favor Nicky… don’t make it harder!“ she cried. “I can’t…”

“…go on like this, I know,” I finished. Tears streamed from my eyes but my body was numb with shock. She had hit the point. I knew how she felt because deep inside I knew I was feeling the same way.

“You… should get the chance to fulfill your work aspirations…”, she continued, “…and I need to focus back on mine”

Her quiet sobs achieved to break my heart into pieces. I really couldn’t breathe anymore, through air indeed went in and out of my lungs.

She’s right. I love her so much. But I’m not doing her any good, I’m even ruining her performances… 

I shouldn’t fight for this. 

“Okay…” I focused on the tiles of my kitchen, emptying my mind to gather the remains of my strength. “I guess I’m going to hang up now… too hard.” I managed to articulate, my body fighting against the sobs pushing to come out. 

“I’m so sorry… Please, take care of you Azu… Nicky”

My chest shook uncontrollably for containing the sobs. I couldn’t say anything, still I couldn’t hang up after all. It would mean it would be over. Our relationship would end with the call. 

But then it hit me. 

It was over. We had just broken up. 

I spoiled a minute trying to regain my ability to speak, my blurred sight composing the soft features of her face.

“I’ll hang up, hum… bye” Misa’s voice had regained some composure.

“Take care, just know you’re the best…” I finally stuttered in the middle of sobs. 

“Thanks… You too”

And she was gone. 

Tears and sobs escaped madly. 

I dropped my phone onto the sofa, fighting to retake my breath when crying took all over my body with an unimaginable strength. 

Every inch of my being ached, my mind drowning in unbearable pain. 

It was over. We were no more.

I was falling lower and lower and this fall was far more dangerous than my accident. 

You don’t suffer when you fall, the pain coming only when you hit the bottom. 

But precisely, falling was excruciating, the floor never in sight. 

Only darkness.

Swallowing me completely. 

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧