L. YAMAL

lamineyamal¡ always sleeps in with you. if he feels you wake up or begin to move, he insists you stay a little longer, he wraps his arms around you and doesn’t let you move.

lamineyamal¡ will always take you out to your favorite breakfast spot. he gives you as long as you need to get ready and doesn’t complain once. he’ll always take a couple things to-go at the end because he knows you’ll get hungry and complain on the way back or later in the day.

lamineyamal¡ always manages to surprise you. whether it’s with a few friends, your family, or a special surprise waiting for you at home, he’ll do it. you don’t know how he does it because you never expect it and he switches it up every year no matter what. every time you think you got it down, it switches.

lamineyamal¡ lets you pick out somewhere to vacation for one week on the night of your birthday, but he makes you pick a piece of paper out of a hat. you hate it, but you do love that he spoils you so much.

lamineyamal¡ never posts embarrassing photos of you on social media, at least not on his public stories. he’ll only post the most jaw-dropping photos and candids of you that he’s been saving over the whole year.

lamineyamal¡ almost never picks up his phone on your birthday, he only picks it up to post about you, text his family, or look at directions. he loves giving all his attention to you, and you only.

P. GAVI

pablogavi¡ wakes you up with a giant stuffed animal, usually of your favorite animal, and gives you kisses all over while he “hugs” you with the stuffies arms.

pablogavi¡ bakes you a cake the night before and excitedly sings you happy birthday, just you two, in the morning. he says that whichever wish you make in the beginning of the day is the one that will come true.

(never leave notes in the middle of stories, but writing that lowkey gave me meena, from sing vibes LOL. 😭)

pablogavi¡ decorates the whole house, which he thinks is a surprise, but you always feel and hear him get up in the middle of the night to decorate. he’s always falling or dropping something too.

pablogavi¡ takes you to a private spa & massage first thing after you get ready. he always brings your bestfriend along too, dropping you both off for two or more hours while he goes and does other important things for your birthday.

pablogavi¡ gives you a lot of “small” gifts that really aren’t small or inexpensive, but he thinks so. and he saves you a big surprise gift at the end, usually something you’ve been wanting forever. he always makes sure to use cute wrapping as well.

pablogavi¡ always gets your whole family together for your birthday, including friends. he even pays for some of their tickets so they can fly out and come to you, even if it’s only for a day or two. he knows how important your favorite people are to you.

P. GONZALEZ

pedrigonzalez¡ always wakes you up with breakfast in bed. he makes sure not to wake you up either, he’ll replace his hands with heating pads so you won’t feel alone.

pedrigonzalez¡ reads you out messages his family, friends, and fans sent him for your birthday. he always tells them to send messages to him so he can read them out loud to you, he’ll always put on a voice for every person which makes you laugh, and he’ll exaggerate things. all while you eat the breakfast he made you.

pedrigonzalez¡ will set up the living room since he knows you love to stay in and watch binge movies or shows. you two will spend hours watching and eating until it’s time to go to a reservation he made.

pedrigonzalez¡ will take you on a shopping spree every birthday. he takes you to your favorite mall and favorite little shops where you always go crazy and buy everything. at first you felt bad, but he always insisted and you started to feel more grateful and all gushy inside rather than embarrassed and upset-ish.

pedrigonzalez¡ always makes sure you never lift a finger the whole day. if you need to tie your shoe, he’s on his knees already. if you need to reach for a waterbottle or your phone, he’s there. if you need to scratch your arm, he’s scratching it for you. if you need to stretch, he’s helping you stretch.

pedrigonzalez¡ always ends the day with giving you a handwritten letter and letting you watch a slideshow he made. the slideshow is photos, videos, and funny & cute texts from the past year. it’s always at least twenty minutes long, he’ll always watch your reaction for when something funny or cute pops up, you always make sure to exaggerate your expressions because you know how much effort and time he put into it.

-

l. yamal taglist: @massivepainterfan , @oharella , @piecredheart , @brune77e , @maybelu7 , @soobieewoobiee , @httpworshiper , @cnrdfisher , @deadpool15 , @night-fury-kamila <3

p. gavi taglist: @amirafloral , @adelaidehawthorne17 <3

p. gonzalez taglist: no one yet!

You take his arm away from you. "I'm sorry I've been busy with life." You say, walking to the fridge.

You met Fernando in a culinary course. He was the second chef in charge. You bonded with him when you asked him to help you with some recipes.

He stayed some extra time with you in the kitchen where the class was taking place. He made sure you understood everything.

You two created a nice friendship. You even invited him to your birthday. It was something genuine and very respectful.

You two were in your house, you were practicing the last dish of the course. You needed to make it perfectly to be able to pass the course.

"You are mixing the wrong way." He says, smiling at you.

He takes the bowl to his side, grabbing the spoon and showing you how to do it.

You sigh. Rolling your eyes and grabbing back the bowl.

"Who do you even want to introduce me to?"

Fernando smirks, taking his phone out of his pocket. "He's a friend of mine, I promise you are going to love him."

You shake your head no at his exciment.

"One thing, I don't do clubs." You point out. "I don't feel like meeting someone on a very crowded place."

Fer nods, texting quickly.

"What about my house?" He suggests. "My parents are not going to be there, and my brother is busy during the evening."

You nod, agreeing to his crazy proposal.

"Okay, my house, this weekend." He smiles. "Lunch will be."

"Okay, I'll do my best to not have a bitch face the whole evening."

"Great!" He says. "Now, you are mixing it wrong again."

☁️☁️☁️

"You are here!" Fer says, opening the door to his house. "My friend is almost here." He explains.

He grabs your wrist, pulling you inside of the house. You two walk into the house and in the kitchen.

"Ve!" He says, hurrying you to go into the backyard.

You open the door, already feeling uncomfortable. You find two boys and one girl. You say a shy greeting to them.

"Chicos, she's Y/n." Fer introduces you to them. "This is Pam." He says, pointing to a girl. "This is Adrian, he and Pam are a couple."

"Hola!" They both say.

"This other one is Mike." He points to the last one. "He's a friend from Tenerife."

"Nice to meet you." You smile.

You start a small talk with Pam. She was nice and tried to make you talk and get to know the others.

"And I study to be a teacher." She says.

You smile at her. You tell her about yourself. She was very interested and asked you some questions.

"So you think Fer is a food chef?" Adrian asks, a mischievous tone behind the question.

"I do, he's very helpful."

"He once burned the chicken." Mike says, both Adrian and him were looking at Fer in a funny way.

"One time!" He laughs. "Y/n, can you help me with something?" He asks.

You nod, excusing yourself and walking inside the house.

Fer asked you to help him with some snacks. He trusted you more than what he trusted his cousin with flavor.

You joke with him about that burned chicken. He was trying to act as if that didn't really happened and it was because his little brother distracted him.

You take the snacks out and walk back to see if Fer needed any more help. You find him texting with one hand, and the other is mixing something that is on the stove.

"Don't burn that." You say.

"One time!" He repeats. "And it was my brother's fault."

"Was he cooking?"

He was about to answer, but the doorbell interrupted him. You have a feeling on who it is. Mostly because Fernando has this smirk again.

"I'm getting it." He says, turning the stove off and rushing to the door.

You like to say that you don't care about this "blind encounter" or whatever this is supposed to be.

Yet you can't help but check your hair and check if you look presentable. As much as you hate the idea of being in this situation, you at least want to look good.

You take a deep breath, only a few hours, and then you can ghost this guy. Nice and smooth. Or maybe you are actually going to like this guy, and maybe it's going to be a nice evening.

"Ya volvimos!" Fer says, walking to the kitchen with this tall, blonde guy. You tried your best to hide your emotions.

You can't help but feel a little comical. Fer really never asked you what your type was. You definitely were not into blonde guys.

Strike one.

"This is Daniel." Fer introduces the guy.

"Hola," you smile at him. "I'm Y/n."

"Fer told me a lot about you." Daniel smiles.

"I'm checking on the others. You guys can talk here." Fer says, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen.

You two stood there in an awkward silence. You try to think of something to say that makes a nice conversation.

"Fer told me you are a chef." He says, getting a little closer.

"Not quite a chef." You chuckle. "I'm just learning to cook some fancy dishes." You explain. "Want to go out with everyone?"

"Mmm, let's sit on the couch." He smiles.

You nod, walking with him to the couch. You act quickly and sit on the single one. Letting him sit on the large one that was next to the one you are in.

"What do you do?" You ask, trying to keep the flow.

"Not much." He says, shrugging.

"Are you in college?" You try to ask something again.

"Yeah, I am." He smiles.

You smile back, very awkward at how bad this was going. You two just seat there, the horrible silence that was created by the lack of conversation was killing you.

"I heard that you like to play basketball." You say, remembering a little of what Fernando described him to be.

"Oh, I do." He says, very monotone tone. "I think people are more focused on football these days, but I've been training since I was a kid and-"

You zone out after a few seconds. Couldn't he just say < yes, I do > and move out with the topic?

"And I really think that the Lakers are better than the Warriors."

"Yeah, I like tennis." You say, trying to change the subject.

"Oh, I like tennis too." He says in a happy tone. "Who's your favorite player?"

"Serena Williams."

He chuckles. "I mean, yes, she's a tennis player, in theory." He starts.

Don't say it, you think.

Don't.

"But who's your favorite real tennis player?"

You hang your head low. "Nadal." You sigh.

Second strike.

"Let's go with the others." You say, getting up and walking straight to the garden.

The way Pam smiled at you and patted the chair next to her was so cute to you.

"Was it bad?" She asks, whispering so no one else hears.

"I mean, he still has one strike." You chuckle.

You two talk about different topics. You really got to know her and like her. Maybe that can be a consolation for the blind date thing.

You won't walk out of there with a "boyfriend" like Fernando wanted you to, but you definitely will walk out with a new friend.

"Hey, Y/n." Daniel calls you.

You turn to him, humming so he can say what he needs to say. You were eating the food that Fernando prepared.

"You asked me about basketball, maybe you can drop off at tomorrows practice."

Was that his idea of a date?

Was that even an invitation for a date?

"I'll think about it." You say, smiling lightly.

"Yeah, maybe we can go out and see that femenine tennis game at the bar that's close to where I train."

"Oh, you like tennis?" Mike asks, smiling.

"I do, I trained and played a good number of games when I was a kid-"

"She likes Serena Williams." Daniel says. "Like I asked her for a tennis player, not a lady with a racket."

Everybody fell quiet. He definitely thought that I was going to be a funny joke and that everyone was going to burst out laughing.

"I like Serena Williams too." Pam says. "I think she's the best and some of the younger girls on tennis really look up to her."

"Do you guys want more salad?" You ask, trying to change the topic. "It's amazing."

"Yeah, Fer." Adrian says. "Thank you, hermano. This is amazing, thank you for not burning it."

"One fucking time!" Fernando laughs.

You all laughed at him, and he started to say how much his reputation mattered to him, that the burned food was ruining it.

"Do you need help with the dessert?" You ask him, seeing that he got up to go back inside.

"The last you can do after ruining my reputation." He jokes.

You walk inside with him. Helping him with serving some ice cream into cups. You help him with taking them outside.

"I'll be right back." You say to Pam, who wanted to tell you something.

You notice Fer washings his hands on the sink. You had caramel on your hands also, so you needed to wash them too.

"Fer, where is your bathroom?" You ask, sticking your hands together to play with the caramel on them.

"It's the door in front of the stairs, almost at the front." He points.

You nod, walking to the entrance. You find the bathroom, but the problem now was that your hands were sticky with caramel.

You tried with your elbow, but it was no use. Try with your arm, but it was too heavy for it to open up.

"Quieres ayuda?" You hear someone say behind you. (Do you need help?)

You turn, finding a boy. He definitely was Fernando's brother because they do look alike.

"Si, please." You smile at him. "I have caramel all over my hands, and I can't open it."

He chuckles. "We all been there." He says, trying to make you less worried.

"Gracias, mmm?" You humm, trying to get him to tell you his name.

"Pedri." He says with a smile.

"Gracias, Pedri." You repeat, but this time you say his name.

He does this winking with both eyes. You can't help but find that attractive in some way. He was like a remastered version of Fernando.

A better one, you may say.

"If you need help with something else, I'll be in the kitchen." He smiles.

You nod, smiling at him. "Gracias." You repeat, walking inside the bathroom.

You wash your hands quickly, a part of you want to rush to be able to meet Fer's brother in the kitchen.

The other knows that if Fernando finds out you are trying to make a move on his brother, he will be mad.

Maybe that was the reason why he had never talked about him before. Maybe he was just nice to strangers, and was that annoying boy Fer always yap about.

You walk back to the living room. Thankfully, the kitchen was right next to it, so it was easy for Fer and Pedri to see you walking back.

"The caramel is gone." You say to fer, showing him your hands.

He chuckles, "Hey, this is Pedri." He says, turning to where pedri is, giving him a small hit on the head. "My little brother."

You nod, smiling at him. "Nice to know the one you blame for the burned food." You mess with Fer.

"Jo'er!" Pedri laughs. You can't help but find his laugh so cute. "Don't believe him, I wasn't in the house that day."

You giggle, looking at him.

He was also looking at you.

"Y/n is the one who made the lemon cake from the other day." Fer explains to Pedri. "He loved it, ate almost every slice of it."

You smile while bitting your lip. "Glad to know someone liked it." You say to Pedri.

"Buaf, liked it is not enough." He chuckles. "I broke my diet, so worth it."

"I can bake some for you."

Pedri nods, smiling like a little kid.

Fer calls your name from the backyard. You smile at pedri and walk outside.

"Your ice cream." Pam says.

You sit down, grabbing the spoon and mixing the very melted ice cream you had in front of you. You listen to the conversation, not wanting to involve yourself on it.

From your place you can see Pedri inside of the house, he was playing with the family dog. You knew the dog from Fernando's insta stories.

You can't help but smile at how delicate he is being with the dog.

"Oye," Daniel says to you. "I can give you a ride home. Fer mentioned that you didn't bring your car."

You scrunch your nose. "It's okay, I can order an Uber." You smile.

"Nonsense, I'll take you." He smiles, passing his arm around your shoulders.

You cringe at the action. Quickly grabbing the plates that are in front of you and him.

"Fer!" You say, getting up and making his arm leave your body. "Let me help you with the dishes."

"Oh si, we will help you." Pam says, grabbing some of the plates.

Daniel passed you Mike's plate while Pam had hers, Adriand and Fernandos plate. You walk with her to the kitchen.

"You really don't like him." She whispers.

"Qué?" You ask, trying to act as if you don't understand. "Wha- What are you talking about?"

"Dani, he's been all over you, and you've been so evasive with him."

You stayed quiet, making a face that makes her laugh.

"Let's just say that he's not my cup of tea." You say quietly. "He's just everything that I don't like combined in one dumb dude."

"He really doesn't know when to shut up." She sighs.

You just nodded, not really wanting to talk about it. Daniel was a little bit over himself and was the typical macho guy who thought that he's all that.

You stayed in the kitchen while the boys were outside. They were standing up, so maybe it meant that I was time for the gathering to end.

"Hey, give me your number." Pam says, taking her phone out of her pocket. "That way we can hang out."

You nod, happy and excited that you made a friend. You two share numbers and Instas.

"Party's over." Fer says, entering with the boys to the house.

You say goodbye to Adrian and Mike, giving a small hug to Pam and wave at Fer that was busy loading the dishwasher.

You notice that Daniel was in the backyard talking on the phone. You walk your way to the door to be able to get out before he gets off the phone.

You close the house front door and take your phone to order an Uber. Sadly for you, you were facing the consequences of your own actions.

You were too lazy to change your phone before getting ready, telling yourself that the charge that was left was enough for the day.

Well, it wasn't.

"Shit." You curse, trying not to be loud.

"Tas' bien?"

You lift your head and turn back to the house, finding Pedri looking at you.

"Si, I just got 1% of battery left, and I can't order my Uber." You say, smiling to hide your embarrassment.

"I can take you home." He smiles. "I'm going out, and I don't mind dropping you off."

"I don't want to be a bother." You say, feeling a little shy. "I'll just find a cab."

"Qué va! I'll take you." He says, walking close to you. "Vamos, I left the car outside."

He places his hand on your back, pushing you very lightly for you to walk. You feel this small goosebump.

He not only opens the door of his house to you but also the door of his car. You know that's not something that needs to wow you, but it does.

"Where to, señorita?" He asks happily.

You giggle at his enthusiasm. "Do you by any chance know the Calid Apartments?"

"Si, it's close to camp nou."

You nod. "Yes, the precious Camp nou."

"Do you like football?" He asks.

You shake your head no. "I'm bad at every sport known to man." You laugh, making him laugh. "That's why I picked cooking as my skill."

"You sure are good at that one." He says. "I'm not letting you bit out of the fact that you offered me more of that lemon cake."

He stopped at a red light, head turned to you. The way he was smiling at you and the way the red light hit the high spots of his face.

You were kind of thankful that the red light was hiding your blushed face.

"I'll make you as much lemon cake as you want." You whisper.

"Promise?" He whispers back, smiling at you.

"Yes." You giggle.

The car behind you honk as soon as the light turns green. Making Pedri's eyes move from you to the street.

"Do you want to play some music?" He asks, trying to act normal, he unlock his phone and passes it to you.

You grab the phone, opening spotify and pressing play to the song that was already playing.

The rest of the drive was silent. Not an uncomfortable one, you feel relaxed in some type of way.

You got a text from Fernando, he was asking you where you were. You block your phone, you'll deal with that later.

"We are here." Pedri says, parking in front of the building.

"Gracias, Pedri." You smile at him. "You saved me. Drive safe."

You close the door of his car, waving at him. You only get to walk a few steps before you hear Pedri calling your name.

You turn back to the car, his window is now down. He has that smile that is growing on you.

"Si?"

"Do you want to see a football game?"

You scrunch your nose. "Well, like i said, I don't know anything about football. Why?"

He chuckles, "I have a game this weekend, it's at 2 pm." He explains. "I know that's in four days, but I was wondering if you would like to come?"

You nod quite quickly. "I might not get anything, but I would like to." You smile.

"Talking about that, I can explain some basics to you."

You nod happily. "Give me your phone." You ask, getting your hand inside his car. You pick his phone, saving your number on his contacts. "You have my number. Text me whenever you are free."

He winks at you, saying a quick goodbye. You turn right before entering the building, waving at him.

☁️☁️☁️

"Hola!" You say, opening the door for Pedri.

"Hola, guapa." He smiles.

You step aside so he can get inside. He has a bag on his hands.

"What's that?" You ask, curious about it.

He hands you the bag. "For you." He smiles.

You grab it, also grabbing his wrist and walking with him to your couch. You sit and open the bag.

It was a simple bag, no indication of what was inside whatsoever. That is why when you open it, you are taken by surprise. It was a barca jersey.

"Una camisa!" You say happy. You take the jersey out and check it. (A jersey!)

"This is the black one." He explains, "we have a green one, the blaugrana one and this one."

You check the back to see which player he picked. "It's empty." You say.

He nods. "I'll let you decide which player you want."

You nod. "Cristino!" You smile.

He burst out laughing at your words. When you mentioned that you didn't know anything about football, he thought that maybe you meant the bases of the game, not that you didn't even knew the players or teams.

"I mean, he was in Real Madrid." He explains.

"Oh," you say, blushing at how dumb you must look. "Then who's on your team?"

"We got Gavi, Ferran, Cubarsi." He began naming the players. "We had Messi."

"I know that one." You smile. "But in my mind, he was a psg player."

"He was, before Miami."

You nod. "Do you want something to drink?" You ask him. "The lemon cake is in the oven." You tease.

"Fuck, can I be honest with you?"

"Siempre." You giggle.

"I trained extra hard just because I knew you would bake something."

"I promise it'll be worth it."

You notice that he has a piece of grass on his hair, you think about it for a few seconds. You decide to move your hand to the side of his head, taking the grass off of him.

"I can tell you trained hard." You joke with him, showing him the small trace of grass on your hand.

Your hand goes back to that section of hair, combing it with your fingers to make sure there is nothing left.

Pedri's eyes are running along your features, the way the natural light makes you look like a work of art.

Maybe it's because it's been a long time since he ever felt this attracted to someone. Maybe it's because you are so new to him, and that makes him want to have you around till he knows you.

Or maybe, just maybe it's because you are not like those other girls in his past. You don't care that he plays in one of the biggest teams of Europe.

You don't care that he just invited you to one big game, you don't even know who is on the team or what position he plays in.

You don't care about his money or take a picture with him to get followers and get people talking about you.

"Done." You smile. "Now, where do we start?"

Pedri clears his throat. "Okay, I know that Real Sociedad and Girona match is being replayed in about fifteen minutes, so I think that we can watch it and I'll explain everything to you."

You nod, letting Pedri get on his zone. He was happy that he got to share something he loved like football.

Pedri takes his time with you, explaining every little detail. There was an offside? He will explain to you why that happens and how to not get offsided.

Was there a yellow? Okay, now you know why you get a yellow. What about two yellow? No problem, he has an explanation.

Someone got a red? Well, now you can tell what kind of red card that is. If it was for too many yellows, if it was for a foul, for violence or any other kind of red.

You know now that Pedri is a midfielder, he explains what he does and why his position was important in the game.

"Pacheco is a defender." He explains, pointing to the player. That's why he seems more aggressive."

"Got it." You nod.

During the game, Zubimendi got tackled by Martinez feet. You frown, knowing now that it was a very evident yellow.

"Wait, why is the guy that gives the cards not giving him a yellow? That was a clear foul." You argue.

Pedri can't help the laugh. "Referee, guapa." He says. "And sometimes you'll notice that referees don't give cards or mark a clear thing. That's because they are some cabrones."

"Okay, so the match is almost done, 90 minutes completed. The referee is now supposed to give extra time that will do to make up for lost time."

"Two minutes?" You ask. "What can you do with two minutes?" You frown.

You not also learned that two minutes was a valuable time in football, but also you learned that you spoke way too soon.

"That is what you can do with two minutes." He says after one player scored. "He can even get another one."

You get up, walking to the kitchen to cut the now cold cake. You place a big slice on a plate. You grab a fork and walk back to the couch.

You handed the cake to him, who didn't even last more than five seconds before taking it into his own hands.

"This is amazing." He says, closing his eyes.

"Glad you like it." You smile. "I'll put the rest in a topper and you can take it home."

"Eres la mejor." He says with a mouth full. (You are the best)

You stayed quiet, watching him enjoy his slice of cake. You feel happy that he was so vocal about liking your food.

You let him talk a little bit more about football. You don't understand, but watching him talk and being so open about it makes him so attractive.

"I'll invite my cousin and his girlfriend." He explains. "Adrian mentioned that you two hit off very well."

"Si, she's really nice."

"Vale, then I think my work here is done." He chuckles. "I'll send you the pass information the morning of the game."

You nod, walking back to the kitchen to save the rest of that cake for him.

"Save a piece for Fer." You tell him.

"I can try." He says, shrugging. "But I might not be that successful."

☁️☁️☁️

"You are alive!" Fer says, exaggerating his tone.

"Never stopped." You laugh.

"Pero joder, you stopped answering my texts." He argues. "You only answer Pam's texts." He rolls his eyes.

"Don't be jealous, you are my favorite loser." You say, hugging him. "I'm sorry I didn't answer, it's just that I was busy." You lie.

"Aja. Sure." He smiles. "Also, Daniel asked me for your number the night of the party and I gave it to him."

You nod, faking a smile. "I know, he texted me." You say.

As much as you want to say that his friend is weird and that you didn't really hit it off with him, you don't.

"Subete! Let's go to camp nou." He does a little dance. "Are you excited?"

You nod, "Very much, I even got a kit." You say, pointing to your jersey.

"You finally caught onto a sport." Fer teases, knowing that you are not good at any sport.

You scuff, hitting his arm very lightly. You roll your eyes, knowing that he is right in mocking you.

You let him tell you about this movie he saw last night. He was so happy with the plot while you pay no attention to him.

Your whole focus was on Pedri's texts, he was asking if you if you were ready for the match and if you had your new jersey on.

You smile at the picture he sent you, it was him ready for warm up. You feel comfortable with him and you feel happy that he feels comfortable enough to be natural with you.

You send him a picture of the road. Updating him on where you are and that you have the jersey he gifted you.

You can't lie, a few days ago you were all < I don't need a new friend / boyfriend. I'm fine alone." But now that Pedri made his way into your life, you are enjoying it.

"Are you even listening to me?" Fer asks.

You nod. "Yes, you burned the banana bread your mother asked you to bake." You say, blocking your screen.

"Who are you even talking to?"

You feel your heart jump from the question.

You aren't doing anything wrong, but you are also sure he won't be happy to know his friend is talking to his little brother.

"Daniel." You say, not thinking enough. You mentally hit yourself because that will create a problem.

"Okay!" Fer says, smiling. "My work as Cupid is amazing, I see."

You stayed quiet, hearing him talk about other topics. You check your phone from time to time to answer Pedri's texts.

When you two arrive at the stadium, you feel kind of nervous. You never been to a game or never really been attracted to any sport so this feeling was new for you.

But you weren't just attracted to the sport, you feel attracted to the boy playing that sport.

"Adrian is inside with Pam." Fer says.

You feel happy, the stadium was really big. You remember that Pedri told you that the Camp Nou was even bigger and that it was better.

Fer and you walk over to the stand, you see that people are starting to take their seats. You follow fer to the correct seats.

"Y/n!" Pam says, getting up to greet you. "Love your jersey."

"Thank you, love yours!" You say, hugging her. "Hola Adrian." You say to the boy next to her.

You sit between Pam and Fernando. He wanted for you to sit there so he could explain som parts of the game to you.

You spend the remaining time until the match starts talking with fer and Pam. Adrian and her had an idea of going to Tenerife to have a relaxing weekend.

Fer was happy because that means visiting his family and being able to have a nice weekend with his friends from Tenerife.

"We can use one of Pedri's days off." Fer suggests. "I know he has some next month, and I think it's on the week that he will play againt Las Palmas."

"That's amazing!" Pam says. "You are coming, right?"

You shrugged. "Can I confirm later?" You ask.

"Venga, you have to come!" Adrian says.

"She will, I'll make sure of it."

The conversation got interrupted by the screaming of the people. You all turn attention to the field where the players were coming.

You see the players doing the intro and everything. To you it was amazing, you never seen that before, and you are sure you look like another young boy in the stadium seeing their favorite players for the first time.

They got in position, ready to play. Pedri turns to the bleachers, he's trying to spot his brother or cousin.

When he does, he notices you next to Fer. His smile grows. He turns back to the field, he needs to have his mind on the ball and not on the bleachers.

You try your best to enjoy the game, doing your best to remember what Pedri told you. When one of the players from the other team pushes the number 9, you quickly frown.

"But that's a clear foul." You say, noticing how the referee gives zero fucks about the in clear pain player. "Why is he not giving him a yellow?"

Fer turns to you. "Because he's an asshole." Fer says.

You turn back to the field. The 9 got up and is talking to the referee. You try to understand why it is so complicated to give a card when it's so obviously deserved.

"Espera," Fer says, turning back to you. "Did you just say the word foul and yellow card?" He asks surprised.

"I'm not that dumb." You laugh.

The first half was good. You stressed about the fact that the players of the other team were on and on over the barca players.

"I hate this game." You say t everyone. You have a pout on your face. "Why is the referee that way?"

"That's what we all ask each other week after week." Adrian says.

"Wait for them to foul Pedri." Fer says on a bitter tone. "They love to ignore how other players attack him."

You just frown. Why would anyone attack that gorgeous man?

You sake that thought out of your head. "That's fucked up." You say to Fer.

Thankfully to you, the rest wasn't that long. You hear the screams and people chanting different players' names.

The second time was somehow worse than the first. Fer wasn't lying when he explained to you that the referees hated barca.

Number 7 makes a wrong move and tackles the 11 of the other team. You can see how the yellow card shines in his direction.

But thanks to Pedri, number 3 and number 2. The game got more interesting. Pedri assist number 9 and he scores a goal.

"Only the extra time left." Adrian says. "And we are still leaders on La Liga."

"Is that good?" You ask Fer.

"That's amazing!" He smiles. "Remember, you always want for us to be leaders."

After the extra minutes the game was over. That meant three more points for barca and a clearly free way to the top.

Pedri got named motm, meaning he was leaving with a trophy. He explained that motm meant that he was the best player among the two teams.

The four of you walk back to the parking lot after waiting a while for the people to start leaving.

"Oye, we will head home for pizza and a drink." Fer says, to you. "And you are coming too."

You nod, thanking him for inviting you to go with them.

"Also I texted Daniel, he will be there in an hour. It's enough time for us to get there."

You got serious. It's not like you hated the guy, but if you had to save an ice cream cone from the sun or save him... yeah the ice cream.

Fer explained to you that Pedri has his car and he will get home after showering and talking to some players.

You check your phone when it vibrates. You had two texts, one from Pedri asking you how the match was from your pov.

And the second one was from Daniel, telling you that he was excited to see you at Fer's and that maybe you can plan an outing while you are there.

You obviously answer the first text, telling Pedri your thoughts. You even tell him that you were enow mad at that specific referee and will find him for not giving a yellow when he got tackled.

You can't help but feel bad at Daniel's text. You hate to ignore people, you answer with a thumbs up emoji.

You made your way to Fer's house. Picking the pizza and some beverages on the way. You text Pedri, asking him if he was planning on drinking something.

He answered that he won't and that he might just stick to some water because he has a recovery training tomorrow in the evening.

"Can you help Pam with the pizza while Adrian and I make the dri-" Fer was saying, but the doorbell interrupted him. "Maybe please open the door?"

You nod, smiling at him and handing the pizza boxes to Pam. You walk to the door and open it.

"Hola, mi guapa." Daniel says, smiling at you. "You look amazing on that."

"Hola." You say, very dry tone.

You turn, leaving him at the door and walking back inside.

Pam was about to talk but she noticed the boy behind you. "Oh, Hi." She says, waving at him.

Daniel was too busy with his phone to answer to her. "Where Fer?" He asks you.

You share a look with Pam, rolling your eyes you point to the patio. You then help with placing the pizzas on plates for the boys and for you.

You walk to the patio with a few plates while you see Fernando and Adrian trying to imitate a tutorial on tik tok.

"Hard much?" You ask, laughing at them. "Let's just drink it 70/30 and call it a night." You suggest.

They agree and bring the drinks to the table. You talk for a while about the match, updating Daniel on how the match went.

You get a text from Pedri saying that he was about to get home. You wanted to talk for a while with him before he got taken by Adrian and Fer.

"I'll go to the bathroom." You say, getting up. "Anyone needs more pizza? I can grab some when I'm back." You ask, trying to make it sound normal.

As if it was you saying you are going to the area 51 or something. You are just going to the bathroom.

They all answer yes to your question. You say you'll bring the box to let them grab a slice by themselves.

You walk to the bathroom just in time to see Pedri walking inside the house.

"Hola." He smiles, you can tell he is tired because of his eyes. "Having a good time?"

You nod, giving him a quick hug hello. "You look tired." You say. "I mean, obviously you are, you just played a lot. Sorry, that sounded really dumb, but also maybe you have a lot of energy because sometimes exercise gives you energy." You ramble.

He chuckles, finding cute how you are trying to remedy your words. "Buaf, a little tired, but I'll maybe go outside. I heard that there's pizz-"

"Y/n." Daniel calls. "There you are, we are waiting on that pizza." He says.

You turn to him, frown from how you were just absent for barely three minutes now. "Oh, it's on the counter in the kitchen." You say.

"Hey, man." He says to Pedri. "I know where it is, but you mentioned you were bringing out, and you didn't, so I thought maybe something happened to her."

"It's been four minutes." You say, checking your watch. "Less, I think."

You can feel the awkward silence from the three of you. Pedri, who's just there, not understanding. Daniel, who is trying to get you to come back with him and you who want him to get away so you can go back to Pedri.

"Vale, you can bring the pizza to them then." You smile. "I haven't even been to the bathroom, I was saying hi to Pedri." You explain.

Why are you explaining yourself? Just tell him to go get the pizza!

"Daniel, llevales la pizza tú." Pedri says, noticing the tone in his brother's friend. (Take the pizza yourself)

Daniel lifts his hands, nodding and going back to the kitchen.

You turn to Pedri, smiling at him. You try to think on what to say after that awkward moment, but you kind of blocked.

"Ya viste mi trofeo?" He asks, lifting his motm trophy. "Ta' guapo, eh!" He says. (Have you seen my trophy? It's cool)

You extend your hands, asking for the trophy. You checked it, and it was cool. Like, really really cool.

"Do you have more of this?" You ask, still looking at the trophy.

"I think I have five." He answers, thinking about it. "I have one that has stars on it." You open your mouth in sorprise, looking at him. "I know, so cool." He smiles.

You smile back at him. You hand him the award back. "I'll let you rest." You say. "If you want to still go out, we have pizza and some drinks." You repeat what you say to him over text.

He nods while blinking. You really like it when he does that. "Well if I don't, text me when you are ready to leave, I can drop you off."

"No seas bobo, you are tired. Plus, your brother will drive me."

"The same one who's probably doing shots by now?" He asks, lifting an eyebrow. "Yeah, he's not driving you home. You need to get home safe."

You want to argue back that he really needs the rest but Fernando magically decides to scream.

"Chug, chug, chug. My turn, my turn!"

You shut your mouth quicker than ever. "Maybe I'll do text you." You say, smiling at him. "Go get some rest, you deserve it."

You say a quick goodbye to him, walking back to the garden. Finding Adrian and Fer competing over who can drink their drink faster.

"Y/n, want a shot?" Daniel asks you.

"I think I'm fine with my drink, thanks." You say, taking your seat. "What are these idiots doing?" You ask Pam.

"Adrian told Fernando he was quicker than him at drinking."

You laugh, watching them prepare different drinks and competing over who was quicker or even who got the best drink in taste.

The night was fun, you were thankful that you had all Sunday to rest.

"So, y/n." Daniel says, taking Pam's seat as she went to the bathroom. "What were you and Pedri talking about?"

You lift an eyebrow. "Does it matter?" You ask.

"I mean, I feel like I need an explanation. You say you were going to the bathroom but you are talking to him. Leaving us without pizza."

"The pizza was in the kitchen, dude." You say, getting irritated. "Why do you care if I took less than five minutes in the bathroom or if I was talking to Fernando's brother?"

"Because you can speak to me instead." He says, passing his arm around you. "I told you we can plan an outing, I might cancel that if you keep behaving like a handover." He laughs.

You take his arm away from you. "Don't worry, I'll cancel it for you. Wasn't going to go anywhere with you, anyway." You say, getting up from your seat and grabbing your phone.

You text Pedri to see if he was awake.

He didn't take much to responde that he was, telling you that he would be down in a moment. He sends you a picture of him playing a game.

You thank him and tell him to take all the time he wants. You are not in a hurry.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Adrian asks you. "Want a drink?" He smiles, lifting his half cocktail at you.

"No, thank you." You smile back. "I just got cold." You half lie, you were cold, but that was not the reason.

"Oh, I can fix that." He smiles, walking to one of the doors by the entrance. He grabs a hoodie from the closet where Pedri and Fer keep a winter jacket and a hoodie just in case.

He walked back to you, handing you a taupe Balenciaga hoodie. You thank him, putting it on.

"So, drink?" He asks again.

You laugh. "I'm good, believe me."

He dissappear back into the garden. You stayed there, enjoying the calm and warmth that the hoodie brought you.

You were dissociating for a moment before you felt a little tap on your head. You go back to reality, finding Pedri in front of you.

"Cute hoodie." He says.

"It's Adrian's." You say. "I was cold, maybe because I'm tired." You smile.

"Let's get you home." He extends his arm to you, offering his hand for you to take and get up.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" You ask him. "I can take a cab if you want to go back to your video game."

He shakes his head no. "I can't let you take the risk of going alone to your house in a cab." He says. "Plus, it was time for me to get off of it."

You nod, walking with him to the garage. He opens the door of his Porsche. You find that very cute.

"Want to do the honors?" He asks once he's inside the car, handing you his phone with spotify open.

You played some Quevedo, you love his music so you can't resist to pick it for the drive.

The drive was silent, you feel tired and he feels tired too, but won't let you take a cab and risk you out there. He prefers to take that little bit of strength he has left and make sure you get home safe.

"Te divertiste?" He asks, stopping at a red light. (Did you have fun?)

"I did, thank you for inviting me." You smile. "Even tho I'm mad that the fact that now I have an enemy on the referee." You say with a mischievous tone.

He can't help the laugh he let out. He was happy that you had a good time, and even better that they won the match.

When he stopped at the entrance of your building, he lowered the music. "Thank you for coming, it was good to have you there." He says, looking at you.

You try to answer, but the big yawn that you let out was the only thing your body was letting out.

He chuckles. "Eso pa mi es un de nada." He jokes. "Go to sleep, guapa." (That for me is a you're welcome)

You nod, leaning to give him a hug and a cheek kiss. You got down of the car, when you are about to enter the building you turn and give him a goodbye wave.

☁️☁️☁️

"You want me to bake you a banana bread?" You ask Pedri.

You were in your apartment watching some movie that he got recommended. You tried your best not to fall asleep.

You have been texting, phone calling, and spending time with each other almost every day since the day after the game.

You thought that it might be a short thing and that maybe the idea of the two of you was wrong.

But after you hit the four months mark, you definitely knew that his feelings were real and that he was as interested in you as you are of him.

You enjoy his presence in your life. It's was different and very nice to have him around. He also enjoys your presence. To him, it was fresh to have someone new and who gave him a new perspective of things.

"Buaf, that sounds amazing." He says. "Don't forget that we have that dinner at Adrian's." He says combing your hair.

"Do we have to?" You ask, getting comfortable on his chest. "I mean, you do because he is your cousin. But do I have to?"

"You don't, but I want you there." He says, kissing your hair. "Also Adrian wants you there."

"Aww, pepi." You say in a teasing tone of voice. "You want me there?" You smile.

He blushes a little. "Maybe you are right, you don't have to go." He jokes.

You lift your head, narrowing your eyes and looking at him. He can't help but smile, even though he is pretending to watch the movie.

"Grosero." You say, getting back to your position. (Rude)

He laughs, turning back to you and kissing your shoulder. "Toy' bromeando." He smiles. "I do want you there." He lifts his neck a little to kiss the corner of your lips.

"Pero besame bien," you pout, making his smile grow bigger. You pucked your lips out for him, he quickly imitates the action and kisses you. "So much better." You smile. (Kiss me properly)

He can't help but feel happy, the time you two have spent together was a very happy time for him.

He moves his hands to the back of your head, making you get closer for him to kiss you one more time.

You feel your phone vibrate next to you, making him separate a little to look at it. "That's probably your brother asking me about the pie he wants to take to dinner tonight." You say.

He shrugged and went back to kissing you, ignoring the phone that was vibrating next to you.

"Pero si me vas a hacer ese pan de platano?" Pedri asks as he separates.

You laugh, "I'll do it. Let's just finish the movie." You say, focusing on the movie.

But you can't quite concentrate on the movie when your phone is buzzing at its maximum. You grab it and move it under of a pillow, that way, the vibration won't bother you.

After a few minutes, the phone passed from vibrating from texts to vibrate from a call. Pedri grabs it, passing it to you.

"Hello?" You ask, the number that was dialing you was an unknown one.

"Te he estado enviando unos veinte mensajes, what are you even doing that's so important for you to not take five seconds to answer my texts?" (I've been texting you like twenty times)

You take your phone out of your ear, looking at the number. "Daniel?" You ask lifting yourself from your position on Pedri's chest. You are confused about what was going on. "Is everything okay? Did something happen?"

"I can ask you the same. Did you even see my texts?" He asks in a mad tone.

"No, I'm busy." You say. "Why is that important that can't wait? Are you okay?" You ask, thinking that maybe he was in trouble.

Pedri was looking at you confused. "What's going on?" He whispers.

You shake your head, not understanding anything. You can hear Daniel chuckling and that makes you even more confused than before.

"Check the texts and call me back." He says before hanging up the call.

You are still lost at what even happened, Pedri looks as confused as you are. You shrugged and opened your texts.

First it was a picture of him with two tickets on his hands. It was for this new movie that was having a premier today.

Then it was him asking what your favorite flowers are. He was at a flower shop, and he sent you a picture of different flowers.

And last was him asking if you like chocolate and what kind of chocolate you want. He sent you a picture of one random one next to the tickets and the flowers.

"I think he likes you." Pedri jokes, reading the texts. "Payaso." He scuffs.

"You think?" You ask, lifting an eyebrow. "Gosh, I hate to be all bitchy, like can he get the hint already?"

Pedri can't help the laugh. "He's obviously not getting the hint, preciosa." He says. "Why don't you just tell him straightforwardly that you are not interested?"

You nod. "Like now?" You pout.

"Ah vale, si quieres esperate de acá a que el payaso ese te proponga matrimonio o algo." (Oh okay, if you want, you can wait till that asshole proposes or something)

"Vale, I'm doing it." You say, smiling a little at his jealousy. "You look good when you are jealous." You tease, grabbing his cheeks and giving him a peck.

You can't lie, you have a text on your notes about what you wanted to say. You just edited some things and added other things.

You send the text and place your phone on Not Disturb mode. You really don't care to read any excuse or text he will send. You just want peace.

"Done." You say, blocking your phone. "Now help me pick something for the dinner tonight." You say, grabbing his hand and getting up from bed.

"I'm literally wearing the same thing." He says, following you to your closet.

"Good thing that you are a boy, then." You laugh. "I don't know what to wear."

He starts inspecting your clothes, finding a T-shirt that's exactly like the one he is wearing. "Mira, we can match!" He says, smiling like crazy.

"Let's match, baby." You hug him.

He kisses your cheek, "By the way, Ferran and Eric want to go to the movies. It's after dinner, and I want you to come with me so you can meet them."

"What if your friends don't like me?" You ask, worried about the possibility.

"Buaf, tas loca." He chuckles, grabbing your cheeks. "Ferran te va a amar, incluso no te asustes si te hace una broma el hijoputa." (You are crazy, Ferran is going to love you, don't get scared if he tries to prank you)

You nod, smiling. "Okay, and Eric?"

"Eric, he loves everyone." He smiles, giving you a kiss. "No te preocupes, you are so special. How could anyone hate you?"

He can't help but crashing his lips with yours. His hands are going from your cheeks to behind your neck.

"Stop, I have to get ready." You say, felling his hands go down on your back, "and you have to get that thing Adrian asked you."

He pecks your lips. "Fine, but we're not done."

You send him back to the room, grabbing the clothes and picking some jeans and sneakers. You took a quick shower, getting ready inside the bathroom.

You add some very light makeup, finishing quickly. You go back to the room, getting back in bed with Pedri, who was finishing the movie.

He snuggles into your side, giving you a kiss to the cheek. "Tell me when you are ready." He says.

"What about what you need to get?" You ask, turning the volume down.

"Fer is getting it."

You continue watching the movie, there was only twenty minutes left on the movie when you heard knocks on your door.

You frown, you are not expecting anybody, so you don't really pay attention to it. Sadly for you, the knocks come back two minutes back.

"I'll be right back." You say, getting up from bed.

You walk to the door, thinking that maybe some package ended in the hands of one of your neighbors.

To your surprise, it wasn't a neighbor with a package. It was Daniel, carrying the bouquete of flowers and the chocolates.

He doesn't even wait for you to say anything, he storms into your apartment. He leaves the things on the coffee table.

"Si, Daniel. Get inside." You sarcastically say. "What do you need?"

"You didn't answer your texts." He says, ignoring your questions. "I brought your flowers, peonies, the florist says girls love peonies."

"Daniel-"

"And I got you some chocolate, this brand is that famous one from tik tok. The Dubai one." He keeps going.

"Danie-"

"And don't forget about dinner, I'm taking you to dinne-"

"Para!" You say loudly. "Didn't you read my text?" You ask, exasperated. He nods. "Okay, you did. Then what are you doing here?"

"I know you were just messing around." He smiles. "And that's why I wanted to get you some goodi-"

"How did you get my address?" You ask, thinking about it. "I never gave it to you."

"Oh, Fer did." He says, normally. "But don't get mad, he doesn't know about your dumb text." He laughs.

You blink a few times. Not understanding if what was happening was real or if it was a dream, a very bad one.

"Daniel, I really hate to say this." You begin. "But like I said over text, I'm not interested, and honestly, it's kind of creepy that you are doing things like this."

He laughs, but not in a < you're funny > way, in a very creepy way. "I mean, look at me. You can give me a second chance. In fact you will!"

It's your turn to laugh. You can't even believe he would have the audacity to say that. "Alright, it's time for you to go." You say, turning to your door.

He grabs your arm, bringing you closer. "Don't act all pure and shit."

You don't think twice and lift your knee, you hit his crotch. "What is wrong with you?" You say, hitting his face with your hand as he fell on his knees from the pain. "Get the fuck out of here."

Pedri hears the commotion and walks to where you are, he sees Daniel on the floor and you with an angry face.

"Qué mierda?"

"Este puto payaso que trató de agarrarme por la muñeca, se piensa que le daré una oportunidad." (This fucking asshole who tried to grab me and thinks I'm forced to give his ass a chance)

Daniel who is still on the floor, looks at Pedri with a confused look. Pedri pulls you towards him, covering your body with his own.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" He asks, mad that Pedri was there.

"Venga, pedazo de imbecil." Pedri laughs. "I can ask the same thing. Get up and get the fuck out." He orders.

Daniel quickly understands the situation. "So you are fucking Fer's brother?" He chuckles. "Okay, miss prude."

Pedri takes that as a sign, grabbing the boy by the collar of his jacket, and while he still om his knees, he's dragging him out of your apartment.

Pedri might look small, but he has some force into himself. Once he gets Daniel out in the corridor. He walks back inside, grabbing the flowers and the chocolates.

He throws it at him, slaming the door and closing it. He takes a few deep breaths before turning to where you are.

"You okay?" He asks, walking over to you. "Did he hurt you?"

You shake your head. "No, I'm just a little shaken up. But I'm okay."

He wraps his arms around you, giving you a hug and a kiss to your hair. "That chocolate actually looked amazing." He jokes.

You can't help but laugh and roll your eyes. "Let's just wait for him to go, and then we can leave to Adrian's."

He nods, holding you while you calmed down. You asked him some things, trying for him to calm himself down too.

He doesn't want to admit it but he's also very mad. You let him go, walking back to your room to get a jacket.

"I'll see you there, please drive safely." He says, pecking your lips.

"We are literally going to the same place. "Keep your hands to yourself." You joke, pushing him away.

He rolls his eyes at you. "You know you love when I do that." He smirks.

"Kinda."

The whole drive to his cousins house was bored. You try to play some music to feel less lonely on the car.

When you arrive the first person you see is Pam. She greets you, grabbing your arm and waking inside.

"I love your shirt." She says, handing you a glass.

You click the glasses together, laughing at how silly that looked, mostly because it was soda and not an alcoholic beverage.

When Fer arrived, it was followed by Pedri. Fer was laughing at how his brother got him to bring what he needed to.

"Pedri!" Pam calls him. "Come here."

He walks over to where you two are, Pam takes a look at you, then back at pedri, then back at you and then back at pedri again.

"You are matching!" She smiles, pointing at your t-shirts. "That's so cool."

You smile at that. Even if it was planned, it felt so cute. "Buaf, we are." He smiles, finger poking your side.

"Adrian, let's match next time." Pam says, walking to her boyfriend.

You grab Pedri's cheek, squishing it. "Totally random." You laugh.

You all sat down at the table, talking about different things. The biggest topic was the famous trip to Tenerife Pedri and Adrian are planning.

"You are coming, right?" Adrian asks.

You nod, at first you didn't want to go, but once Pedri convinced you. He asked you to come to the game that was taking place a few days before the trip.

You all talk about the trip, what you will do when you get there, what activities the boys have in mind and other things.

When it was time to leave, you told everybody that you needed to get home and do something. Saying that you might call a cab or use the bus.

Pedri offered to take you since he was going with his teammates somewhere. Nobody said anything, they all just nodded and waved a goodbye at you.

"I've been thinking." He says.

"That's new." You tease him.

"Buaf, grosera. You are meeting my parents." He squish your hand.

"Maybe when we get to tenerife, we can tell your parents that we are together."

He grabs your hand, giving it a kiss. "If you feel ready, then I do." He smile. "By the way, Ferran might or may not ask you for a cake, he loves cakes."

"Pero venga, por qué no me has dicho que estabas con alguien?" Fer asks Pedri, offended that he found out that he was with someone because of a magazine and not because he told him. (Why didn't you tell me that you are with someone?)

Pedri rolls his eyes, he knows that if he confesses that the mysterious girl is, in fact, Fer's friend. He would be mad and won't understand.

"I was going to." Pedri says, watching his phone like nothing happened. "I was just waiting."

"When?" Fer asks, taking the phone out of his hand. "You never hide things out, what is going on?"

"Joder, can't I have something only to myself?"

Fer throws the phone back at him, grabbing his keys and going out.

Pedri and Fer are not ones to keep secrets to each other, that's why Fer was mas about Pedri keeping this as a secret.

His friends invited him to play some padel, he needed that after the fight with his brother.

Daniel was there, so it was good because they always had a chat to update each other on their life.

But this time was different, Daniel didn't wanted to talk to Fer. He barely even acknowledged him, thing that left Fer very confused.

The whole game he was trying to think what was going on for him to be ignored by his friend.

"Daniel, tio, what's going on?" He asks, patting his friends back. "You've been so distant."

"Honestly, I like it that way." He scruff. "Last time we saw each other you linked me with a fucking girl whos fucking your brother for money."

Fer doesn't have an answer for that, he doesn't even understand why Daniel is saying that.

"Qué mierda? Why are you saying that?"

"Because is true, yesterday I got her flowers, some chocolate and even invited her to dinner but when I went to pick her up she was with your brother."

"Yesterday?" He asks, confused. "I saw them yesterday, that can't be right."

"Don't believe me?" He laughs. "Were they wearing matching clothes?" He asks

Fer doesn't answer, he grabs his stuff. He drives home, hoping that his brother is still there. He needed to ask if what Daniel said was true.

He finds Pedri watching Breaking Bad while petting nilo. Was he mad? At him, no. But he was mad at you.

"Are you and Y/n, hooking up?"

"Qué?" He asks, pretending to not understand. "Are you crazy?"

"Tell me the truth, Pedro." He warns him, using his name and not the nickname. "Because Daniel just told me that he went to deliver her flowers and shit and found you there with her."

Pedri shrugged, "Maybe one of the times where I picked her up."

"Turns out that it was yesterday. At first, I didn't believe it, but then he told me you guys were matching, just like you were yesterday."

Pedri sighs, he wants to honor his word when he promised you to keep it private from the group, but he can't deal with this.

"And if I am, what about it?" He asks, turning the tv off. "It's not like is any of your business."

"Pedro, are you out of your mind? You can be fucking girls and giving them money!" Fer shouts. "Don't be fucking stupid."

Pedri can't help but laugh at how stupid Fernando sounds. "I'm not paying anybody for sex. She's my girlfriend."

Fer doesn't know how to answer because Pedri doesn't do girlfriends. He's more of the type to be with someone for a few days and then goodbye.

"She what?"

"Qué es mi novia, idiota." (She's my girlfriend, asshole)

"You don't do girlfriends." Fer says. "Look, if this isn't true and you are actually payin-"

"Me cago en la puta, que no!" He shouts. "Now be fucking useful and take nilo out for a walk."

He starts walking upstairs, not before turning back to Fernando. His brother is speechless, nilo by his side waiting to be taken out after hearing the word "walk".

"And don't say shit, she wants to announce it on Tenerife. So, you are going to be quiet and act normal." He walks two steps, remembering he needs to say something else. "By the way, if you ever insinuate that I'm fucking paying her to have sex with me. I'll beat the shit out of you."

☁️☁️☁️

"Y/n, are you ready to see the game?" Rosy asks, fixing something in your hair as she sets the plate of food on the table. "Hope we win."

"Yes, I'm so excited. We are going to win." You smile.

"Pedri told me you were not a fan of football." Fernando his father says.

"I'm not really that good at sports, but your son helped me with learning about football."

You were eating at their house, Pedri invited you over so you could tell his parents about your relationship.

"She's a good student." He says, placing his hand on your thigh. "She now knows even more than me."

You smile at him, intertwining the hand that's he has on your thigh with yours. You think nobody's noticing, but his parents are doing it.

Rosy and Fernando are trying to keep their comments, wanting you two to confirm or deny what you are.

The eyes between you and him keep being not discreet at all, even Fer, who was there just because he lived there, noticed that.

You make a nice talk with both of them, they ask you about yourself and about how you met the boys.

They also explained to you how Pedri ended up in football and how he cried on his first night in Barcelona.

Something embarrassing because without it, it wouldn't be a proper introduction.

"Pedri, tell me something." Rosy speaks.

Pedri nods, serving himself with a few more croquettes. He can't get enough of them.

"I'm sorry to ask, I just can't wait." She says. "Can you please just tell us that you are daiting so we can cut the whole weird talk?" She asks

You choke on your food, trying to help Fer pass you some water. He wants to laugh at how Pedri is all red and shy.

"How do yo-" He tries but his voice fails him. "How do you know?"

Rosy and Fernando exchange looks, they want to laugh at how funny this was. Even Fer was enjoying this a little too much for his brother liking.

"Oh, you know." His father says, filling his glass with more wine. "Parents have that instinct."

"That and the fact that we all saw you kissing on the corridor at the hotel in Gran Canaria."

౨ৎ

I'm in bed naked, he's inside of me

I love him, kiss his mouth, prayin' he can't see what I see

Marco was new, someone you had been seeing for only the past few months. A new friend brought around by your move to Madrid. Barcelona had become too hard to live in, every street filled with a memory of him that you couldn't bare. Each flicker of dark red and navy blue sent shivers crawling down your spine. Barcelona had become to small of a city to encompass the love and heartbreak that you felt when you remembered him -- Pedro.

In Barcelona, that love and heartbreak was able to breath. In Madrid, it was snuffed out. Mostly.

The evening's warm sun cascades through the linen white curtains of the modern apartment in the capital's bustling centre. Horns beep outside, music beats wildly on the crowded Friday evening as young adults free themselves of the weeks mundane stresses on sweet Spanish beer and cheap liquor that burns in the chest.

Marco and you lay intertwined, heavy breaths and sticky skin. The noise of pleasure filled moans sound out between the four pale white walls. The floral bed sheets are thick and comfy beneath you, his hand rolls over your cheek like a gentle kiss. He loves you, you know that. But, you love him. Marco looks at you with wide deep blue eyes that are glazed over with awe and affection. When you look at them, you see honey, you see a deep brown that belongs to a man across the country.

Guilt trickles into the veins beneath your warm skin.

You kiss Marco. Maybe, a kiss would bring you back to the sun-kissed evening in Madrid and away from the coldness of Barcelona. A kiss could make you stop picturing another man, while someone else is inside you.

When I close my eyes you replace him

With shut eyes, your lips press against Marco's own plump ones. They're bigger than Pedro's, more demanding and controlling. It makes the kiss feel one sided and weak. It never felt like that with Pedro.

With shut eyes, and as your tongue intertwines with another you feel the memories of him flood back. Every kiss, every touch, both delicate and passionate. You hadn't felt Pedro's touch in six months, not since everything happened, and yet when he appears now in your mind he is the exact same.

Wearing no disguise you erase him

His brunette hair is floppy and messy as you run your hands through it lightly pulling at it just enough to feel him smile against your lips. It sticks to the light sweat sheen on his forehead as he thrusts inside you over and over. His rough hands grip onto your bare hips like they are the only thing anchoring him from sailing off to the oblivion.

Marco moans.

and your world crashes once again.

For a few moments, Pedro had erased him. The memories of your mind made it feel like it was him in the bedroom with you. It made you feel like it was him whose hands were roaming your body and touching you in all the spots he knew so well.

For a few moments, Marco never existed. and neither did the new job, or the apartment or the burning pulse in your chest located slightly to the left that hadn't faded since leaving Catalonia.

And that guilt returns, only this time it provides a lingering sweetness.

I want to feel guilty

I want to feel that its wrong

You know its wrong, you know it makes you a shitty person. You're leading him on and you're using him because Marco is the only one that can get you close enough to the way Pedro made you feel. They looked similar too, that's why you went on the date with him in the first place. The same brown hair, the same dark eyebrows, the same high cheekbones and the subtle bump in the nose. They look like they could be related. Cousins maybe.

Marco's face was easy to replace with Pedro's.

And that's a cruel thing to admit, but you're young and heartbroken just trying to chase down anything that makes living and breathing without the man you love easier.

And laying here beneath him, feeling that guilt as you fight back saying another man's name breathlessly through bitten lips helps.

Your climax isn't fake tonight, most nights it is but the visions of him were strong enough to push you over the edge tonight.

Marco finishes and confirms it with the moan of your name and the furrow of his thick brows. Pedro's did the same thing, you can't help but think.

Marco flops down in the bed beside you, a lazy lovesick yet boyish grin plastered across his flushed face. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face and behind you ear. It's almost hard to look at him because you don't feel the same as he does in this moment and he can't tell.

You look away sheepishly, your eyes wide and staring at the bare ceiling. The streets below the apartment building are loud and rowdy, way more than they usually are.

"I've never heard the city so loud" You say, breaking the silence of the room for the first time since the panting and moaning stopped.

Marco chuckles. It's deep and hoarse. Rich and smooth.

You glance at him quickly, he's still looking at you. His smile still there, his stubble covered jaw sharp and slightly tightening.

"It's El Clasico tomorrow, all the fans are out partying early" He replies with an air of nonchalance, and of course he did because how could he realise that the words he just spoke made your stomach drop and your palm sweat. Marco didn't know anything about you and Pedro, or Pedri as he would call him, he had no idea that it was him that had sent you running away to Madrid and right into his arms.

"I actually was planning on it being more of a surprise, but now seems like a fitting time. I got us and a couple of our friends tickets to the game. It's a tradition that we go to at least one a year" Marco starts.

"I can't" You blurt out with too much haste. Marco scowls at you, only briefly, but there is a look of apprehension on his face for a fleeting moment.

"You can, you have no plans tomorrow or work"

'I don't like football" You say. It's not really a lie. Not anymore. Football was always the biggest reminder of him. Football was Pedri. Pedro was football. A relationship that ran so deep, and meant more to him than you ever could. In most way, you were the other woman and football was the wife that would always be waiting for him to come home.

Marco scoffs for a moment before speaking. "This is not football, Doll. This is El Clasico. This is.." He ponders and struggles to find a word that seemed to fit what he was trying to say. "Heaven" He settles on.

"You're coming. End of."

Your heart is beats uncontrollably while Marco begins to pick his clothes up off the cold deep wood floorboards. The atmosphere around between you feels unusually tense, something heavy that Marco cannot even begin to understand lies thick in the faded breaths.

The floorboards creek under his feet as his belt jangles while he fastens up his suit trousers. You lay under the soft covers, clutching them over your bare breasts as your eyes linger on Marco. However, your mind is somewhere else, it's racing with the thought that tomorrow you will be seeing Pedro. The one person you believed you would never see again. The one person who held your heart in his palms and crushed it. You were never even together, not officially but it often felt like you were. A ten month situationship filled with the whirlwind of love and hushed kisses, one that was kept so close and secret from the world around you both. Media never knew, his teammates hardly knew. But you both knew, and in your little world that was all the mattered.

Until, it no longer mattered at all to him.

Suddenly, you feel sick. Nausea swirling around in an empty stomach. Marco comes over and presses a firm yet caring kiss upon your forehead and somehow that makes you feel even more sick.

"Kick off is at eight. I'll swing by and pick you up at seven" He says with a cheeky wink before grabbing his perfectly tailored black suit jacket and leaving you alone in the fading light of your apartment.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚-

You step out of Marco's black porsche onto the buzzing pavement outside the Santiago Bernabeu stadium as the streets fill with eager civilians all covered in shades of white clothing. Without much thought, you adjust the white Real Madrid scarf that was wrapped loosely across your neck despite the early summer heat. Marco had made you wear it, and it felt wrong and dirty. It felt naughty, but in a twisted way you enjoyed that guilt.

The white of jersey's shimmered in the light of the sunset, beside you Marco shines. His muscular arm wrapping over your shoulder's with a casual possessiveness. His grip never harsh but steady, stable.

He guides you through the gates, flashing his tickets. Your friends follow in behind, although they aren't really your friends. They're Marco's and you have just become a tagalong. All your friends remained in Barcelona.

As you make your way to your seats you realise that the energy in the stadium feels different than any other game you had been too. That this match meant something more, something deep routed and incomprehensible. History hung between the walls of the cathedral of football. Those in the stands don't pray to god, they pray to the game.

It was the noise that hit you first -- a deep rumbling of voices, chants and whistles that pulsed as if the sound itself was alive. Marco guides you through the sea of white and gold madridistas, and you can feel the buzzing electricity from around them. The stands smell of beer, sweat and cigarette smoke mixed with anticipation.

You make your way down the stairs, edging closer to the pitch. With each step you hope Marco will pull you down a row of seats, but he doesn't. Anxiety dances underneath your skin as you begin to realise how close you're going to be to the pitch, how close you're going to be to him. You thought you would be so far away that you would barely be able to see him, and he would never be able to see you but now that doesn't seem to be the reality.

Marco stops and pulls you down a row about seven back from the pitch, in the home end and just before the left corner with an incredible view of the goal.

As you sit down you feel your chest constricting, the air almost suffocating. Marco places an arm around the back of your seat as he speaks with his friends about the upcoming game. They think Madrid wish beat Barcelona with ease, that the Barcelona defence is no match for the goal scoring ability of their mighty Vini Jr and Mbappe. You know they're wrong. You've been to enough Barcelona games to be well aware of how difficult it will be for Madrid to beat them but you keep that to yourself as you bite your lips and fiddle with the tassels of the white and gold scarf.

You weren't a Barcelona fan either, only when you were involved with Pedro. So not now. You swallow away the sting that causes, and lean further into the arm of Marco. He turns his head briefly and smiles looking down at you before going back to his conversation, but you notice the way his arm has curled around you closer.

He's a good man, with a well paying job and he loves you. You should love him too.

The lights began to dim slowly, like a theatre just before they lift the red draped curtains. You know what's about to happen, you know who you are about to see and you aren't prepared. Your breath is caught solid like a lump in your throat.

One by one, the spotlights around the top of the stadium begin to flare back on. Music swelled from the speakers, too loud for most to bear but for you it is simply a dull ringing in the background of your mind because they were leaving the tunnel.

Players in blue and garnet emerging out into the hostile atmosphere, while those players in white beside them emerge like celebrated warriors.

The cheers and boos were swallowing.

You want to look away, but you can't. You have to see him, see what he looks like. Does he look the same as he did when you left all them months ago?

It doesn't take long for you to see him.

Number 8 bold on the back of his shirt.

You feel like crying. You feel frozen. You feel sore and wounded. You feel like you could be drowning.

He looks the same, like you left yesterday. His hair is still in the same cut, faded on the sides and long on top. He's clean shaven, and his eyebrows are neat. He's exactly the man you picture while Marco is inside you. He's the face that replaces him, the one that comes to visit you in dreams of both night and day, the one that no matter how hard you try you can't escape.

And he's real. He's here. Close, but not enough to touch.

And you're here, but he doesn't know that.

When his face is on the big screen for all the stadium to see, you wince and look down at your feet. Marco says something beside you but you don't catch it and your too focussed on someone else to ask him to repeat it. Instead, you find yourself fiddling with your nails, then with the fabric of your distressed denim mini skirt and finally the scarf tassels that had become your saving grace tonight.

The whistle blew.

The match began. Not just between the men on the green turf but between you and everything you had tried to leave behind.

-౨ৎ ⋆｡˚-

The second half had just begun, the fifty first minutes of a tense game ticking on the clock. The Bernabeu was humming like it had been all evening, so full of arrogance and purpose. The scoreline sat at 1 - 1 and yet the game had been intense, full of action and there was a strong belief in the stadium that something heavier was coming. Something magical was hanging on the edge.

Pedri jogged across the pitch, his studs whispering against the slick, green grass. His lungs pulled sharp in the night air, bitterness lingering on his tongue as the importance of winning this game and earning the rivalry's bragging rights weighed on his shoulders.

The ball had gone out for a corner. He wiped away the sweat from his forehead by lifting up the bottom of his shirt. His bare stomach now on show under the floodlights. The stadium hissed around him, a chorus of poisonous boos directed at those who shared his shirt. White scarves swung through the air like flags of war, but never in surrender.

It should have been just another set piece, like the ones he had practised in training. It wasn't meant to be him taking it at first, but he stepped up in the end.

He lazily kicked the ball to the corner flag with light taps against his foot. When he reached the flag, his hand brushed it lightly and without much thought. He placed the ball where he wanted it, settling it on the white mark with a practised ease and then he straightened back up. The home crowd behind him were rowdy, insults and distractions being hurtled at his back. Usually, he never looks.

But today he felt compelled too.

So, his honey brown eyes flicked up to the stands. They scanned the chaos that spread over the rows of people.

And then he saw you, or he thought he did.

Row 8. Not in Barcelona colours, no but in a soft snowy white scarf. Your hair tucked delicately behind your ears in the way you always did when you were nervous. Your plump lips bitten between your teeth in the way you always did when you were overthinking. Pedri watched you watching him, both of you so still and unmoving like he wasn't supposed to be kicking at ball at that very moment.

It was you. Pedri's chest tightened.

You weren't meant to be here. You were gone, to some place he didn't know. You had blocked him on everything, you had never responded to his last messages. To Pedri, you just vanished. One night you were arguing about what you were, and he said something stupid about football always meaning more to him than you ever could, and then the next day you had gone and become uncontactable.

Ten months spent together, and you just left like it meant nothing.

But now, you're here and he's looking at you.

Pedri struggles to tear his eyes away from you, but he forced himself to look at the goal, to look at his teammates. They're all looking at him with wide eyes, and yelling at him for taking to long to make his cross.

You need to focus, he told himself as he took in a deep breath trying to shake the feeling.

But, he couldn't. Something in the stadium had shifted, like the air around him had become dense and unbreathable. Like your name was invisibly embroidered into the night sky and hanging in front of him just out of reach.

He heard the whistle.

He lifted his arm.

Took a step.

Then, he curled the ball into the box.

A beautiful ball which arched towards the near post, sharp and spinning with a pin point precision few players in the world had mastered -- but Pedri couldn't really focus on the play, or the ball, or his teammates because you were here, sat only a few rows behind where he was now standing and the wounds of months ago were raw and reopened on the biggest stage of all.

As the ball sank into the fray of bodies in the box, Pedri allowed himself to look back at you in the stands once again. Just to make sure it hadn't been a trick of the floodlights or a hallucination stemming from his deepest desires, just to make sure it really was you.

He looked at you, and you were looking back at him. Your skin was glowy and tanned under the harsh floodlights. Each feature on your face was so strikingly beautiful and yet delicate at the same time. If he hadn't been in the middle of a game, he would have ran to you but he couldn't.

Pedri almost flinches as he watched the man sat beside you whisper something in your ear, he lips so comfortably close to your neck like he knew you well. You break your eyes away from him, and that cuts him deeper than he imagined it would. What cuts him even more is when he realises the white around your neck is a Real Madrid scarf, and that you came to a game knowing he would be playing wearing the colours of his rivals.

The sting was sharper than any tackle he had ever taken.

He turned away before he could see more, before he could see you eyes again still full of that quiet pain he had memorised. Before he could see if you smiled at that man the same way you used to smile at him before he messed it all up.

He jogged back to the middle of the pitch but his limbs felt heavy now. His chest burned -- not from fatigue, but from that feeling that you had moved on. That maybe this whole time, while he was thinking of you during lonely away matches and in hotel nights soaked in regret, you had already given someone else the version of yourself he once held so tightly.

But he knew that wasn’t the truth. He knew you too well, he had read your silence like it was his sacred scripture. He saw it in your face faltered just now. You were not over it. Over him. That wasn’t a face of someone free, it was the face of someone running. The face of someone haunted. That was someone still searching for something they’d never quite been given back.

He didn't know who the man beside you was, but he knew it wasn't love for you. He knew that you weren't feeling the same inside as you felt for him.

The book of your relationship was closed but a page was folded, a place it could be opened back up.

Back in the stands, your fingers play with the tassels of the scarf. Your chest panting up and down, tightening with panic as you tried to hold it together.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

He wasn't meant to see you, you weren't meant to see him again.

He was meant to have moved on. You were meant to have moved on.

So why did he look at you like you were sacred?, why did he tell you all those months ago you didn't mean anything to him when he looked at you like you were an angel?

Your knee bounced uncontrollably, and Marco was still talking beside you. He was talking about Mbappe and how he was the greatest in the world, and how Bellingham was the most intelligent midfielder he had ever watched play in the flesh. You could only nod with tight lips because you couldn't lash out and tell him to just shut up for a moment so you could fight the internal war in your mind.

You felt him kiss your cheek, his cold lips on your flaming cheeks.

and it takes you back again, back to when that was Pedro.

I love him, kiss his mouth, sayin'

Back to when you would be laying in his arms on the leather couch of his living room, the Barcelona sun soaking in through the floor to ceiling windows. Some sitcom on the television that neither of you are paying attention too. His lips ghosting your neck, then delicately tapping against your cheekbones. The warmth in pooling in your chest, and the heat rising between your thighs.

oh yeah, baby, touch and touch and touch me.

And then it would progress, to something more charged and sensual. There on his couch in the middle of the day because you couldn't resist. Or sometimes, in the kitchen pressed against the counter after he had been away thanks to football. Your favourite was always in the shower, when he got back from training and he was exhausted. The way he would lean his head on your shoulder while pleasuring you from behind. He gripped onto you like you were the only thing he needed. The way he grunted, and the way you whispered his name. Every moment felt like brushing heaven.

The cheer of the fans around you pulls you back to reality. Real Madrid had scored. 2-1 Real Madrid.

I wanna feel guilty

I wanna feel that it's wrong

Your cheeks are pink in embarrassment, your thoughts so consumed by dirty moments with the boy on the field triggered by the kiss of another man that you had completely missed the goal. You're the only fan still sat down, but you stay that way. Celebrating didn't feel right.

I wanna know peace again,

wanna sing a different song.

Nothing felt right anymore, not since you put yourself first and left him. Ever since that day, every decision felt wrong. No peace, just long nights being haunted by the thoughts of the life you once lived in a city you once loved.

Down on the pitch, Pedri began to move like a man possessed. The ball at his feet was no longer a tool of grace but an outlet for the confusion, and the heart ache. His passing was sharp, almost recklessly perfect. He went for gaps that weren't really there and somehow found a way through. The blue and garnet crowd roared with delight, but he didn’t hear them. His mind was somewhere else, stuck in a timeline where you had never left. Where the fight that night hadn’t happened. Where he hadn’t said something so deeply cruel that it shattered the only real thing he’d ever had outside of football.

When the ball came to him at the top of the box in the eighty third minute, he didn’t hesitate. He struck it cleanly, fluidly, with the technique of someone who'd been playing since before they could even spell their own name. He hit it without thought.

It sliced past the goalkeepers hands.

A goal, he scored a goal.

You were the only one in your section of white that stood up, because it was like muscle memory. It was natural for you to want him to do well. Natural for you to cheer for him even after he broke your heart. The madridistas around you were silent with hushed sighs, but the Barcelona fans across the way were rowdy and roaring.

Pedri didn't sprint, Pedri didn't smile. Not until you caught his eye.

You stood up as everyone else was sat down. Your jaw ajar like you hadn't even realised you cheered.

He looked right at you. No celebration. Just a look, a long and locked stare that felt like a conversation. I know you still love me. He whispered through deep chestnut eyes.

Then he was swarmed by his team. He had equalised. 2-2. Six minutes plus injury time left.

You slowly sat back down, feeling Marco's confused eyes on your frazzled face.

"You okay, baby?," He asked pulling you closer with so much love and care. A love and care you could never give back to him.

I want you to need me, I need to want something more.

He gives what he can, but now I don't know what he's giving for.

"I didn't know you liked Barcelona," Marco laughed trying to lighten the tension that stormed in the air around you.

"I don't," You told him, finally looking at him for the first time since you here tonight. Your expression softening with guilt that wasn't quite an apology, just plain vulnerability. Marco just nodded, because he was like that. Just understanding and empathetic. He placed his large hand over your thigh and gave is a squeeze of reassurance and let it linger there as the game went on.

Pedri was already back in hurried formation, the full belief that he could win this game on his shoulders. When the whistle blew again to resume play, he snapped back into smooth fluid motion. The pace of the game intensified -- Madrid pushing back harder, Barcelona responding with stubborn brilliance. The crowd surged and swayed, and time dissolved into a blur of movement and noise.

Six minutes went down to one. The ninetieth minute.

And Yamal had a free kick.

One last chance to score.

He took it. The ball spiralled through the air, hitting the top left corner with perfect precision.

3-2. Final score. Whistle blown.

You froze and the world spun around you in a sea of chaos. Madridistas cursing the skies, Marco holding his head in his hands. The boys in blue and garnet screeching with happiness as they jumped on top of each other victorious.

You didn't know how to feel. You didn't know what to do. The pull of the man on the field so strong, but knowing you couldn't go down there and see him. The space between you now seemed so final, and you realised that you needed something more than that. Anything. Just closure, or a sign. A message. A reason to stay in Madrid, a reason to go back to Barcelona. Anything. Just something to clear up this feeling of confusion and heartbreak. Just something final.

And you know that makes you weak, but Pedro could make anyone weak. He had that effect on people.

"Come on, let's go," Marco says, his hand on the small of your back as you stand up, ready to follow all the others in white leaving the stadium in disappointment. You grab your bag, pulling it on your shoulder and nod your head in reluctant agreement.

You're about three steps up the steep stairs when something stops you.

"Y/N! WAIT! Y/N!"

You know that voice, and it makes your stomach drop.

Both you and Marco turn, eyes glancing to the man in blue and garnet running away from the post match celebrations and too the stands. Running to you.

You pause in shock.

Marco's eyes widen as he looks from you to Pedro and back to you again. Confusion swirling around his mind.

Pedri reaches the edge of the pitch, his hands resting on the advertising boards as he leans slightly over them. His eyes glance at Marco for a moment, jealousy flickering beneath his skin as he sees his hand on the small of your back but then he looks at you. He knows what he needs to do, and he knows this is the only chance he has.

"PLEASE! LET ME EXPLAIN!" He shouts, not caring who hears. His hand stretched out for you to come and grab.

Softer, harder, in-between

You know just how to get to me

You look at him stood there, so exhausted and sweaty. His under thermals sticking to his torso like a second skin. You still love him. You love him more than you have ever loved anything in your entire life.

You look at Marco, whose looking at you with raw and stormy eyes. A glint of betrayal lingering in the blueness of them.

He is stable, you are deep.

You look back at Pedro.

The difference between them so stark now they are almost side by side.

Marco is safe, and stable, and he loves you.

Pedro is fire, and uncontrollable passion, and you love him.

Tears well in your doe eyes.

I know just how to get what I need

"I'm sorry," You tell him with a broken voice. You had used him, and he had never even known. That made you a horrible person, but you couldn't help it. You couldn't even look at him, eyes flicking to your feet as you took off the Real Madrid scarf and handed it back to him.

Then, you turned to where your Pedro was waiting and set off down the stairs.

I wanna feel guilty

I wanna feel that it's wrong

You grab his hand, and all them sparks that left your life months ago came back. He helps you over the advertising board and onto the pitch. When your feet reached the green turf, it was like time stood still. It was just you and him, looking though each other as the weight of the moment crushed you from all angles.

You didn't know how to speak, your heart hammering so loudly against the cage of your ribs and washing away all the noise of the post match chaos.

You blink away watering eyes, the vision of the boy you left behind and the hurt all coming back. You glance back to the stands in a moment of weakness, and you hope he's gone but he's not. Marco hadn't moved, he still stood in the stands with the scarf firmly gripped in his hand and a stunned look on his face.

Pedro followed your glance, to the guy in the stands. He knew the look on Marco's face because he had shared that same look when you left Barcelona all them months ago. It was heartbreak. The guys heart was being smashed under the light of the Bernabeu stadium. Pedri couldn't even pretend to feel bad for a single moment, you were his woman even if he was stupid enough to never put a label on it all them months ago.

"Y/n," Pedri said, stepping closer and bringing your wide eyes back to him.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just a small, broken whimper fell from your lips and you tried to hold it together. Camera's were around, although focussed more on the other activities on the pitch than you and Pedri.

"I didn't mean it," Pedro told you, his hands cupping your red flushed cheeks and forcing you to keep looking at him so you can see just how bare and honest he is being. He's laying his heart out in front of you.

I wanna know peace again

wanna be singing a different song

"You said football meant more than I ever could," You say through gritted teeth, that anger from months ago simmering under the surface. The anger you never got to let out because you just left instead. "You said that to me Pedro, you told me I was nothing but a distraction that was getting in the way," You pull out of his hands, holding his wrists in your own.

Pedri whinces, hearing the pain in your voice. For the first time, he's seeing the damage those words caused. The way you were broken by him.

"I never meant it, not a word. I was angry and scared, I was playing like shit and I only seemed to think about you. I didn't care about the football, I cared about you and I panicked," His hands were trembling, his lips were parted and his eyes were pleading. "I have thought about that night so many times, just trying to rewrite a version where I wouldn't lose you"

You stood there, you heart feeling like it's been torn in two again. Pedro was never honest with his emotions, he never told you how he felt but he would show you. That's what kept you in that situationship for months, but you weren't that same girl any more. You had built up new walls, crafted a new life in a new city with a new job. A life that was different and removed from the one you had in Barcelona.

"You lost me, Ped," You whisper. "You were cruel, and you took me for granted,"

"I know, I know, but I want to be better. I want to make it up to you, fix things. You're all I think about"

Pedri stepped closer again, brushing a hair behind your ear. "Please," His voice cracked, "let me fix it."

You looked at him, really looked. His face was flushed from the match, his chest still rising and falling with the remnants of adrenaline. But his eyes -- they were wide and soft, like they used to be when you would fall asleep on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. You had memorised those deep brown eyes once. You’d drowned in them and you had never really resurfaced.

"I'd leave football tomorrow if it meant I wouldn't lose you again"

"No," Your breath hitched, "Don't say stuff you don't mean"

"I mean it," He said firmly, not a falter in his voice.

"I can't just go back, I have a life here now. A job in the city, an apartment. Friends."

it's only a question if somebody brings it up

“I’m not asking you to go back,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I’m asking you to go forward. With me. Let me be part of that life. Wherever it is, whatever it looks like. I'll travel to you every free day. I want this to work.

You body swayed slightly, caught in the whirlwind of this situation. The pull of your past so strong, but the weight of you present resting on your shoulders. Marco is still here, but you don't love him. You never could. You could never love anyone in the way you love Pedri.

But can you trust him again? Can you trust him to not break your heart because you don't think you could survive that again.

Pedri noticed your hesitation and let his thumb caress your cheek. You eased into it like his touch was never absent.

I'm pushing it down and praying

"One chance, that's all I can give you," You hush quietly, scared to make it a real statement. Scared to go back to the past.

A smile broke onto Pedri's face, almost disbelieving.

"That's all I need,"