5 Days Until The World Falls || Philipp Lahm

zero

"I asked for five days- two passed in longing, and the other three I waited."

.

Katrina Russo's death could be said as a small fatal trauma in Philipp Lahm's life. Perhaps she was meant to do something bigger- larger. It took Philipp Lahm exactly a week to step over that big milestone of not smelling chamomile scented shampoo mixed with the fainting mint candle in the hallway.

The next day at training, Philipp Lahm brought in his usual smile and laughter. "How could you still be happy, Philipp?" Bastian placed his arm around his teammate's shoulder. "She only passed away a week ago."

"She told me to be happy," Philipp replied, strolling along with Bastian on the pitch. He knew Pep would have no problem with them walking about and relaxing a bit. "So I'm just following her orders."

"Anything else she told you to tell us?" Bastian cocked up an eyebrow.

"You really want to know?" Philipp stopped and looked at Bastian seriously. The latter looked around, and back at Philipp, nodding. "She said she hated you all." Bastian let out a laugh as Philipp faltered, letting his lips curve in a smile. "Katrina just wants you guys to succeed, really. She loves all of you here." They continue to stroll along each other' side.

"I know you're still mourning about Katrina, but have you thought of having someone else? Soon, I mean." Bastian didn't want to offend his captain, and his best friend. Philipp hesitated to answer; he didn't know what Bastian was expecting as a response.

"I don't know." Was all the captain answered to his vice.

Philipp Lahm was a charitable man. He cared about children, adults, and what happened in the world each day. It was his daily habit to purchase a newspaper by his local stands and read it while eating his double sunny side ups and toasted bread, laid out on his plain white plate.

The foundation loves him, he had donated so much of his money and devoted so much of his time to helping those less fortunated, as ordered by Katrina Russo: his past, and his entire belonging. In May, he will be launching his newest projects with his foundation- no one in Germany doesn't appreciate the man named Philipp Lahm.

It could be said that women flocked themselves at him, but none of them were really his type. His mind sometimes wandered back to Katrina Russo, and what life could've been like if she was here. But Thomas Müller tells him to let it go- like that animated character Elsa or something. Philipp Lahm won't deny that he hears the latter sing some verses in the shower stall sometimes.

Katrina Russo's funeral services were simple, may he add, full with pink lilacs and beautiful sunflowers. She had said that she like simplicity; but everyone cried at her funeral, especially when the lilacs were setting in to her coffin. All of the Bayern Munich players shed a tear, even the toughest looking ones like Franck Ribery, Jérôme Boateng or maybe even Xabi Alonso.

Philipp Lahm could faintly remember shaking hands with all of his teammates, thanking them for coming to her service. And finally, driving to the nearby ocean, screaming to his heart's content and grasping the sand in his palm.

The captain cleaned out Katrina's flat, putting old things in boxes and throwing out useless items with his heavy heart and the lightweight boxes in his arms. He moved all the things to his own house, and left it to collect dust in the corner of his guest room.

Today would be the day that he'd clean things out of the box. Philipp Lahm could swear, for the fifth time in his life, that he had to pinch the web in between his thumb and index finger to hold in his tears. The man had found photo albums after photo albums after photo albums- of all their travels, vacations, his matches, his baby pictures along with hers, their pre-wedding images with captions written behind it- in the small, neat handwriting that solely belonged to Katrina Russo.

Things like 'The Day I'll Never Forget' or simple sentences like 'Bundesliga Break', even words like 'Milan' was found written behind a photo when they traveled to Italy. Even symbols of a '♡' was drawn poorly behind one, and flipping it over was a colored image of her and him: Katrina on the back of the captain on the pitch, laughing as she held tight around his neck, afraid of falling off his back- he had faintly recall that it was the year that they had won the Bundesliga for the countless time.

As he dug in further, removing all of the photo albums from the box, he came across an envelope, sealed tightly with transparent tape. Philipp Lahm hesitantly took it out, opening the mail. Inside was a simple looseleaf paper dated four months ago.

'To Mr. Philipp Lahm,

This is your favorite person at the desk. I wasn't sure whether I'd be capable of writing this emotional piece of paper, but I've decided that this was necessary. I would tell you what's wrong with me but I'll wait. I would tell you today, BUT you have a Champions League match and they really need you on the roster. Sometimes I wonder if my existence harms you or helps you. Maybe if you've never met me, I wouldn't have hurt you. You should know that I love you, a lot- if I may add. Meeting you was perhaps one of the greatest things that happened in my life. If I am not here with you today, then you should find someone else who can make you happy and laugh as you roll off the couch. Only you can achieve that, and I love it. You know, Philipp- I asked for five days with you while sitting under the starry skies one night in your yard, while we were lying there. I hope the stars grant my wish. So I can write someday 'I asked for five days, I spent two in longing and other three I waited'. Philipp, I really like your mashed potatoes and scambled eggs- please keep making them for your future family, I promise they'll love it like I do.

Trust your instincts, you're almost always right.

I love you so much.

K.'

Philipp Lahm's tears fell all over the piece of looseleaf, some of the ink even started fading on the piece of white paper printed with blue lines and red margins. He neatly folded the paper back into the envelope, placing everything back into the box, standing up to do his laundry for himself for the first time since Katrina's death.

By the corner of the dining table where he hadn't had the courage to go for the last seven days, his blue eyes came in contact with another piece of paper, horribly crumpled and it looked as if it was stepped on as it flew off the counter somewhere. The captain groaned as he scolded himself for needing to clean the house, but unfolded the paper. In it, he could highly identify that it was Katrina Russo's handwriting- dated a week and two days ago, exactly a day before she passed away.

'Philipp, my life has been fulfilling and I hope yours will be too. I lied if you found my letter from months ago. I only asked for four days left to live, but I got five- I was lucky. I spent two days not in longing, and two not in waiting- but all four loving you and the last in agony that I had to finally leave your side after all these years.

What's true is: I really do love you, and I will truly miss you- from the moment I had my eyes on you and even to the moment I shut my eyes in your arms.

Good-bye,

K.'

Perhaps, Philipp Lahm thought as he folded the paper neatly, this was the best closure.

//

i think this was worse than smoke, i had tears in my eyes at least twice writing this chapter zero.

please let me know if you guys want an epilogue, I will be happy to write it. However, if you think this is the best ending for Kapitän Philipp, lemme know! :)

I was happy to have contributed to the Philipp Lahm base here hahahahahaha

dedicated to @AlielaM

bis bald xo.