SEE YOU WHEN I DIE¹, j.bellingham.
— pairing : jude bellingham x f!reader.
— summary : distance and silence settle between you and your boyfriend, and it seems you're the only one affected.
— warnings : angst no resolution, asshole jude, drifting apart, arguing & yelling, vague mention of cheating, pet names.
— word count : 1.5k.
— nour's radio : my first ever post on tumblr im scared af. english isn't my first language so you know the drill (if there are any grammatical errors please point them out lol). enjoy x.
It wasn't always like this at first. He used to dread leaving in the mornings to go to training, blow up your phone with sweet i love you's and pictures of his day whenever he caught whiff of your perfume lingering on his clothes, buy you your favourite dessert on his way home and welcoming you with kisses as you stepped into the apartment after a long day of studying. You'd then make dinner together and spend the rest of the night cuddling on your sofa, sharing kisses between bites. Back then, you'd never doubted where his heart was.
Silence doesn't give you a warning; it creeps up on you when you're most comfortable, slithering between the tiny cracks that have started forming, and shrouds you in uncertainty, where love used to live. It fills you with contempt, poisons every single one of your interactions and leaves you scornful in the face of your boyfriend's dismissiveness.
It started with an unread message, then, an unanswered call, which then led to you coming home to an empty house with your boyfriend and your daily delicacy nowhere in sight. When he opened the front door a couple of hours later, empty handed, he mumbled something about the coach keeping the team after hours and went straight to bed.
It only got worse after that. You'd consider yourself lucky if he even came back before midnight (you always went to bed at eleven and a half), and even luckier if he picked up one of your phone calls once a week. He even stopped inviting you to his games— not that you didn't have a seat always available for you— but he stopped expressing wanting you there, watching his every move from the heights of the v.i.p. suit. And then to add insult to injury, whether his team won or lost, he'd make a detour by the club or by one of his teammates' house before dragging his feet back home.
Waiting, waiting and waiting. It seemed all you did these days was wait. It was another match-day and you couldn't bring yourself to get ready and play the perfect girlfriend of the golden boy under the scrutinizing gaze of the cameras after he flat-out dodged your kisses and went out the door without looking back.
You were sat at the kitchen island, watching as the minutes slipped by and you didn't hear the familiar sound of him turning his keys in the lock and pushing the door open. After a while, you accepted your faith and slid down from the stool and went to grab your phone from the coffee table when he finally deigned to show his face.
He avoided your gaze as he closed the door behind him and started taking off his shoes. You kept your gaze strained on him, heaving a sigh and crossing your arms over your chest. The seconds passing by without him acknowledging your presence felt like hours and only worsened the anxious feeling in your gut. You took a deep breath, and only then did he deign to look at you.
"Hi, baby," he muttered, closing the distance between you two and pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, his hand landing on your waist. His barely-there touch felt foreign, almost made you recoil in disgust. You stayed in place as he moved towards the fridge and looked inside, closing it with a defeated sigh when he didn't find what he was looking for. "Did you like my goal? I dedicated it to you."
That made your heart flutter for a second before it ignited a flame of anger in your chest. He dared dedicate a goal to you and act like the perfect boyfriend in front of the camera lenses, all while actively ignoring you and treating you like an afterthought? "I didn't watch the game actually."
"Why not?" Your bitter tone was not lost on him and he mentally prepared for what was to come.
"Why not? Are you kidding me?" You chuckled in disbelief, your hands coming up to rub your temples, trying to soothe the upcoming headache that he was causing. "Do you get off on torturing me, Jude?"
He rolled his eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about you ignoring me for god knows how long! Seriously when's the last time you talked to me, or kissed me, or even looked at me? I wake up; you're already gone! I go to sleep, and you're still nowhere to be found!"
"I'm an athlete; I'm busy," the brunette scoffed, leaning against the countertop. "And I literally kissed you two minutes ago."
"You were never that busy before!"
"Yeah, well, I am now! Jesus, you're so clingy."
You choked on a laugh. "Clingy? I'm clingy?"
"Yes, you are! All of my friends go out every night and don't spend every second with their girlfriends, and guess what? They don't care! Why can't you be like them?"
"Do you wanna go out and drink yourself to death with your mates, Jude? Be my guest! Just do me a favour, leave and don't fucking come back," you glared at him, both of you on opposite sides of the kitchen counter.
A few seconds slipped by. He shook his head in disbelief, a scoff leaving his throat as he realised you weren't going to retract your statement.
"You're crazy. You do realise I could have anyone I ever want, yeah? Girls— Literal models are lining up to have a chat with me, and here I am, stuck with you arguing about nonsense!" He said, walking away and grabbing the TV remote. "Let's forget about all this, please? You know I hate fighting with you."
Baffled, you stayed rooted behind the counter as he switched the channel to some football match, like nothing ever happened.
This was the final nail in the coffin. You could've looked past his behaviour if he had been understanding and a little bit apologetic, but his display of arrogance and dismissiveness hit a little close to home. You always had this fear of him being able to get whoever he wanted whenever he wanted at the back of your mind since you've started seeing each other. You knew what they said about footballers, only you thought he'd be the exception. You thought you'd be spared the humiliation and heartbreak. And you were deadly wrong.
The only thought on your mind now was to get away from him. He wasn't going to leave, and the bedroom wasn't far away enough from him for you. So you took your coat, keys and phone in hand, and walked out the door without sparing him a glance.
