#hummels

The night had dragged on far too long for (Y/N)’s liking. The clink of champagne glasses, the hum of laughter and meaningless small talk, it all blurred together. She stood by the large bay window, the cool night breeze brushing against her skin through the slightly open pane. She had spent most of the evening playing her usual role—the quiet observer, the girl everyone greeted but never truly saw.

And she was fine with that. Or at least, that’s what she told herself.

It had been years since she’d given up on being noticed by him. Mats Hummels, the man she had once foolishly admired, was the same as always. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair perfectly tousled, and that easy smile he flashed to everyone around him. He was effortlessly charming, effortlessly perfect. And he had effortlessly ignored her, time and time again.

But tonight, something had shifted.

She could feel his eyes on her. From across the room, his gaze was sharp, focused—on her. It unsettled her, threw her off balance. Why now? Why, after all this time, was he finally noticing her?

She let out a soft, bitter laugh, taking another sip of champagne. (Y/N) turned her back on the room, staring out at the twinkling city lights, trying to push down the feelings bubbling up inside her. She had moved on. She wasn’t the girl who pined after Mats Hummels anymore.

At least, that’s what she wanted to believe.

As the crowd moved toward the garden for cocktails, she stayed behind, needing a moment to breathe. The chatter faded into the background as she leaned against the window, lost in thought.

“(Y/N).”

His voice sent a jolt through her. She hadn’t heard him approach, but now he was right there, just a few feet away. She didn’t turn around. She wasn’t sure she could face him without the frustration and hurt spilling over.

“What do you want, Mats?” she asked, her voice surprisingly steady, though her grip on the champagne flute tightened.

There was a pause, and then he spoke again, his voice softer this time. “I just wanted to talk.”

She let out a sharp laugh, finally turning to face him. “Talk? Really? Now you want to talk?”

Mats’ expression faltered. He looked… unsure. Vulnerable, even. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I never really gave you a chance before.”

“No, you didn’t,” she shot back, her voice cold. “You didn’t even give me a second glance.”

Her words stung him—she could see it in the way his jaw clenched, his eyes clouding with guilt. But she didn’t care. She wasn’t going to let him off easy, not after all the times she’d felt invisible in his presence.

“I was an idiot,” Mats admitted, taking a step closer, his voice thick with regret. “I know I was. I was caught up in everything else, and I didn’t—”

“Didn’t care,” she interrupted, her voice rising. “You didn’t care enough to notice, Mats. Don’t make excuses.”

He flinched, his eyes darting to the floor for a moment before meeting hers again. “I’m not making excuses,” he said quietly. “I’m telling you the truth. I didn’t see you—really see you—until now. And I hate that I didn’t.”

“Why now?” she snapped, stepping toward him, her eyes narrowing. “Why suddenly tonight? Do you expect me to believe you’ve had some grand epiphany? That out of nowhere, I’m worth noticing?”

Mats’ brows furrowed, frustration flashing across his face. “That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it, Mats?!” (Y/N)'s voice rose, her emotions boiling over. She could feel the tears burning in her eyes, but she blinked them away, refusing to let him see her cry. “You think you can just show up, say you’re sorry, and I’ll fall at your feet? You ignored me. You made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Like I didn’t belong.”

His face softened, and he took another step closer, his voice low and raw. “You were always enough. I was just too blind to see it.”

The sincerity in his voice threw her off. She had prepared herself for empty apologies, for smooth lines meant to ease his guilt. But this… this felt different. It felt real. And that scared her.

She shook her head, stepping back, putting distance between them. “You don’t get to do this,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You don’t get to show up now and act like you care.”

Mats’ eyes flashed with desperation, and for the first time, she saw him falter. “I do care, (Y/N). I’ve been surrounded by people who don’t mean anything for so long, and I didn’t realize what I was missing until tonight. I was missing you.”

Her heart clenched at his words, but she couldn’t let herself fall for it. Not again.

“You don’t get to miss me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You never had me.”

The weight of her words hung in the air between them, heavy and suffocating. Mats ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the door to the garden swung open, and a group of guests spilled back into the room, laughing and chatting.

One of Mats’ friends, a fellow footballer, spotted him and grinned. “Mats! Come on, we’re heading out for drinks.”

Mats hesitated, glancing back at his friend, and then back at (Y/N). The conflict on his face was clear—he didn’t want to leave, but the pull of his social life, the life he had chosen over her time and time again, was still there.

And in that moment, (Y/N) realized that nothing had changed. He might regret ignoring her, but he would never truly choose her. Not over the world he was a part of.

“Go,” she said quietly, her voice hollow. “That’s what you’re good at.”

Mats’ eyes widened, hurt flashing across his face, but she didn’t give him a chance to respond. She turned away, walking toward the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel his eyes on her as she left, but she didn’t look back.

She wouldn’t let herself look back.

Later that night, as she stood outside the party waiting for her car, the cool night air brushing against her skin, she couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that settled deep in her chest. She had told herself she didn’t care anymore, that Mats Hummels was just another arrogant man who hadn’t seen her worth. But his words, the way he had looked at her tonight—it had all stirred something inside her she thought she had buried long ago.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced down at the screen and froze.

It was a message from Mats.

I’m sorry. I don’t deserve a second chance, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Can we talk?

Her heart skipped a beat, her mind racing. She stared at the message, her fingers hovering over the screen. Part of her wanted to respond, to give him a chance to explain, to see if maybe—just maybe—things could be different.

But the other part of her, the part that had been hurt too many times, screamed at her to let it go. To move on.

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard, her mind spinning with indecision. And then, with a deep breath, she made her choice.

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(Y/N) stared at the message for what felt like hours, her thumb still hovering over the screen. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. Part of her was screaming to ignore it, to walk away and never look back. But there was another part, smaller but persistent, that whispered what if?

What if this time was different? What if he meant it?

With a deep breath, she started typing.

You really hurt me, Mats. You don’t get to just say sorry and expect it to be okay.

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, her heart racing as she waited for a response. Seconds felt like hours, but then her phone buzzed again.

I know. I’m not asking for it to be okay right away. I’m asking for a chance to prove that I’ve changed. That I see you now.

(Y/N)’s chest tightened at his words. Could he really mean it? She had spent so long thinking he never would, that he’d always be the guy who looked through her, but now… now he seemed different. Or at least, he was trying to be.

Her phone buzzed again.

Please. Let me see you. Just talk to me.

She hesitated, biting her lip as she considered what to do. Every part of her that had been hurt and ignored for so long was screaming not to give him another chance. But then again… hadn’t she wanted this for so long? The thought of finally hearing him out, of seeing if he was serious about wanting her, gnawed at her.

She exhaled, her fingers typing quickly before she could change her mind.

Okay. Tomorrow. 7 pm. Same café as always.

The next day, (Y/N) sat at a small table in the cozy café they used to frequent for group hangouts, her foot tapping anxiously under the table. She hadn’t been here in months, not since she’d stopped trying to catch Mats’ attention. The place felt full of memories—good ones, but also painful ones.

She glanced at her phone, noting the time. 6:58. Mats wasn’t late, but her nerves were frayed. She had spent the entire day wondering if this was a mistake. What if he hadn’t changed? What if he was just trying to ease his guilt, not truly invested in making amends?

As these thoughts raced through her mind, the bell above the door chimed, and Mats stepped inside.

Her breath caught in her throat as he spotted her and made his way over. He looked… different. His usual confident swagger was replaced with something softer, more vulnerable. His hands were tucked in his pockets, his shoulders tense.

“Hey,” he greeted softly as he sat down across from her. His eyes immediately searched hers, as if trying to gauge where she stood.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice quieter than she intended.

For a moment, they just sat there in awkward silence. The tension between them was palpable, but neither knew how to break it. Finally, Mats cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together as he leaned forward.

“I know I don’t deserve this chance,” he started, his voice low and sincere. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. But I’ve been thinking about what you said… and you’re right. I didn’t see you. And I hate that. I hate that I was so caught up in my own world that I never noticed how incredible you are.”

Her heart clenched at his words, the sincerity in his voice pulling at the walls she had built around herself.

“I’ve spent so long surrounded by people who only wanted something from me,” he continued, his eyes never leaving hers. “And I took for granted that you were there, genuinely caring about me. I didn’t realize it until you stopped trying. And when I saw you at the party… I couldn’t believe how much I had missed.”

(Y/N)’s throat tightened as she listened, her emotions warring inside her. She had wanted to hear these words for so long, but now that they were being spoken, she wasn’t sure how to respond. Her heart wanted to trust him, but her mind was still cautious.

“Why now, Mats?” she asked, her voice softer, more vulnerable. “Why did it take you this long to see me?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t have a good answer for that. I was selfish. I didn’t realize what I was losing until it was too late. But when I saw you last night… everything just clicked. I saw you for who you really are. And I’ve been kicking myself for not seeing it sooner.”

She watched him carefully, searching for any hint of insincerity. But all she saw was regret. Regret and a desperation to make things right.

“I’m not asking you to just forgive me and forget everything,” Mats continued. “I know I hurt you. But I’m here now, and I want to make it right. If you’ll let me.”

(Y/N) looked down at the table, her fingers playing with the edge of her coffee cup. She could feel her heart softening, but the hurt still lingered.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” she admitted quietly. “You made me feel like I didn’t matter.”

His face fell, but he nodded, accepting her words. “I know. And I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. I’m not asking for it to happen overnight. I just… I don’t want to lose the chance to be with you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She had spent so long wanting him to say that, to acknowledge that he saw her as more than just a passing face in the crowd. But could she let herself open up again?

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Mats reached across the table, gently taking her hand in his. His touch was warm, reassuring. “That’s okay,” he said softly. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Her gaze flickered to their hands, her heart beating faster at the tenderness in his voice. She looked up at him, and for the first time, she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. The same vulnerability she had felt so many times before.

And in that moment, she realized something: maybe he really had changed. Maybe this time, he was serious.

Taking a deep breath, she squeezed his hand lightly. “I’m not saying I’ll forgive you right away,” she said, her voice steady but soft. “But… I’ll give you a chance.”

Relief flooded his face, and a small, hopeful smile tugged at his lips. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the tension between them easing as the possibility of a new beginning hung in the air. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t be easy. But it was a start.