Clean | ✓

trzy

Two months later, pretty much every typical and loyal customers of Flat Tops knew that the footballer and the student slash barista are an item.

Not really an item; close knit, they are still trying to bond with each other.

The first kiss happened accidentally few days ago; fueled in disappointment, delicate yet quite apologetic. It all started with a disappointing game his team had causing Basti's brilliant idea for all of them to spend the night drinking.

Rounds and rounds of drink, he was basically clutching on Manu slurring some German's rhyme for God's know if it even exist. Manu being the hyper cheery drunk type had convince him to sing on the top of his lung on the table clutching a bottle of beer as microphone.

He did.

Half of the team did.

Until it was 1:47 am when the bouncers kicked him and some of them out when they refused to get off the table.

He bided the boys good bye, with Xabi and Bernat trying to usher the boys into respective cars or trying to flag enough taxis to drop off the boys back home without them injuring themselves.

'Come on, Lewy. We have another spot for you!' Bernat who spotted him (searching in his pocket for his keys) opened the door of the taxi already filled by Javi and Götze, 'Más Rápido! (Faster!)'

'I'm good, hiCK.'

The drunk Polish held his keys up, hiccuping his way back to the Audi. Ignoring the loud yelling and the continuous string of Spanish curses, he revved the engine up and drove away into the silent night.

A couple of traffic and laws broken, slippery road and blurry mind; that was roughly how he got to where he was. The front of the Audi wrecked as it hit the tree. He was lucky he didn't sustained any injuries because apparently his conscious didn't like driving without seat belt.

The passing driver had kindly called the police to report the incident while Lewy wobbled his way out. When the dispatched officer arrived, he was sitting on the road, leaning against the driver's door half asleep. When officers tried to wake him up, he did. But the first thing that came out of his mouth was;

'Elle?'

He was drunk. He was drunk and slurring heavily talking about Elle.

Elle's full name. Elle's favourite colour. Elle's pet peeves. Elle's worst nightmare.

He missed her, it has been 2 years after she was gone; his heart still ached for his favourite engineer even after all this time. When he was brought in custody, the police had went through his emergency contacts.

He had listed:

1. Elle Marie
2. Danielle
3. Mama

Even after two years, he would still believe that the light will guide the poor delicate soul back home.

The first half an hour locked up on the holding cell with 3 glasses of warm water had managed to sober him up a little. His mind was still dizzy. When the working officer returned back, the footballer jolted up, his chair screeched against the floor and the glass toppled down from the table.

'Ja?'

'We can't contact the first number on your emergency contact list, Elle-Marie. We had called contact number 2; Danielle but she said she is in Dortmund and is unable to come here to bail you out. We had tried to contact contact number 3; your mother and the number is out of reach.' The officer unlocked the door and placed a piece of paper and pen on the table.

'Is there anyone else we can call on behalf of you to bail you out, Mr Lewandowski?'

He grabbed the pen, holding his head with another as hangover set in and nodded, 'How much is the bail again?' The footballer almost choke on his own saliva when he announced the amount needed, thinking where on Earth is the little girl going to find that much of money.

He scribbled her number, with a little note for the officer to pass on and the officer left; returning in 5 minutes saying that the call has been made.

He was locked up for another 1 hour until he heard a fast squeaking sound of shoes against the floor and a frantic voice of a girl.

'Lewy?'

'Where is him?'

'Lewandowski.'

His first instinct had him screaming Elle but then he realised and smacked himself in the face, now yelling for Karlie.

She came for him, in a black pants and a soft blue flowery cotton (he could literally see the black bra underneath) pyjamas shirt underneath a coat. 'Karlie.' He leaped forward, cupping the girl's face.

'What the hell happen?' She asked.

'How did you get here?'

'I had a senior next door dropped me off. She's waiting for me outside. I'm going to post your bail.' She held his hand through the bars; he could literally felt her hand shaking.

A couple few of papers signed and a bail posted later, the officers released the footballer and the girl out. The other girl was waiting the car looking all annoyed and he apologised a couple of time.

'Where are we heading?'

The girl asked and Karlie glanced at me. 'You can drop us at his place, then you can go home.' The girl looked at him warily from the mirror and nodded. 'I could always sent you back home.'

He actually nodded and held her petite hand, 'I think you should go home. I'm okay.'

'No, you are not. No, I am also not okay.' She gritted her teeth in anger, 'Do you know how worry I am when the police called? What were you thinking?' He looked at her blankly, opened his mouth a little but decided not to speak anything.

So she decided to not speak too.

The car ride was fill with silence; with him nursing his guilt and her nursing her anger. The only time a person is talking was the girl in the driver seat asking direction for his house.

His hand moved, finding its way to where her delicate hand rest on her thigh. She didn't fight, but he could feel how tense was her hand. 'Where did you get the money?' He asked gently. She shrugged and he held his sharp tongue back, 'I'm serious,'

'I emptied my student's allowance.'

'I'll withdraw half of it tomorrow and the rest later.' He kissed the back of her hand and pulled her in. Her face rested against his shirt and he showered the spot near her ear with little kisses. 'Don't do that again.' She muffled against his shirt, returning the hug.

She was furious; clutching on the back of his shirt like a kitten begging for attention.

'I know I'm sorry.'

He pulled back, brushing away strands and strands of hair away from her face. 'I'm so sorry.' He whispered again. His fingers traced the lips down her chin, then he leaned in. He slowly brushing his dry lips against her lips. His lips fit hers like two pieces of legos in the whole big box that he always bought for Tobias.

'Lewy.' She muttered, needy.

'Yes.' His eyes bored deep in hers, a hint of lust twinkled in it.

But, the driver won't let it happen. No, she won't.

'No in my car kiddo, no in my gottverdammt car.' Her friends reminded and she blushed, hiding his face quickly in the crook of his neck, an arm against his clothed chest.

'I think I like like you, Kars.' he muttered resting his head against hers.

She smiled, 'I think I like like you too.'