Gold Rush

Happy Place

'Who's oy-dea was this again?!' Jack's accent boomed, sounding particularly dramatic up in the open moors.
He paused half way up the ascent, breathing loudly and fists firmly resting on his hips as he looked up with furrowed brows at Sophie, who was a few paces ahead.

'Once again...' she turned to look at him,
'for someone whose job it literally is to be at peak fitness, you do an awful lot of whinging about climbing a small hill'

He pouted back at her with those full, shapely lips. Knowing exactly what he was doing.

'Also Jack, it was your idea', Sophie held out her hand, which he took, prompting him to take two big strides to catch up to her.

'Nah' he shook his head, 'what I said was, we should spend our day off burning off the hangover' he nudged his elbow lightly into hers and Sophie gestured to their surroundings wildly with her free arm, as if to say 'Look! we are exercising!'

'I ain't havin' this, ya knew what I meant!' he winked.
The fucking wink again.
'I was happy wi' a stroll to the duck pond, not climbing mountains!'

Sophie silently swore that a small child would make less of a fuss.

'Oh yes, you're right, I hear the West Pennine Moors are often referred to as the 'North's Everest'' She scoffed.

A playful look flashed across his face, 'I'm messin' bab', his voice lower, softer.

'Grealish, you ain't half a bloody wind up!'

'..and ya love it' He cockily shrugged.

The fact his personality could so very easily bat between being cheeky, sexy and arrogant, made him so annoyingly endearing.

'I guess I do' Sophie mentally replied.
She was completely and utterly hooked and she hated herself for it.

They reached the peak with no further fuss and once at the top, they both stood next to each other for a few minutes, arms leaning on the sturdy wooden fencing before Jack naturally broke the silence,
'Hard to believe we're only an hour away from Manchester innit?' It's proper beautiful up 'ea'
His eyes rapidly scanned their surroundings, trying to absorb as much as possible.

Jack asked multiple questions about the area and it's history, that beautifully innocent inquisitive side of his personality shone through.

'It's my happy place, has been for years' Sophie nodded, 'If I'd had a particularly bad day at work or needed headspace from Ryan, this is the first place I'd take myself'.

Jack said nothing, but simply held his arm firmly around her waist, he wasn't the best at verbally expressing his feelings, but this gesture of touch meant more than words. He was so physically responsive, almost intuitive.

Sophie rested her beanie hat smothered head on his shoulder and she felt him do the same.
For that moment it was like nothing else mattered.
There was no outside world.

'Right, have I earned m'food now?' He smirked, already pulling open his backpack and flapping the picnic blanket in the air so it lay flat on the grass.
Sophie laughed as she sat herself down cross legged, shaking her head at the gorgeous simplicity of him.

She just couldn't believe it.
Here she was, in her favourite place (which was thankfully deserted), with a footballer that 90% of women would bend over backwards for.
Literally they would bend themselves over backwards for a sniff of this man.
But let's not go there.

Sophie focused herself on Jack, who was standing looking outwards as if the world was at his feet. She smiled to herself, watching him scoffing his second peanut butter sandwich into his mouth with the views of Lancashire and Greater Manchester panned out before him.

-

He had gone slightly low key today compared to his usual attire, following Sophie's request of 'looking normal' and 'not wearing anything too rascal'.
'Dunno wot ya mean!!' He roared with laughter at Sophie's warning as he left her flat and nipped back to his apartment to get changed, in an attempt to make himself look at least semi-anonymous.

He'd eventually settled on dark grey joggers with a baggy white T-shirt hidden under his oversized dark grey matching hoodie, a black beanie hat to hide his trademark curtains (and to keep his ears warm, he felt the cold disgustingly easy), a black snood, thick gloves and the oldest trainers he could find (which of course were a pair of pristine Nikes).

-

Sophie watched him as he took out his iPhone, he was snapping away, documenting the views. Always such a sucker for social media.
After a few minutes of 'doin' a boomerang', he plonked himself down on the picnic blanket and planted a firm, wet kiss on her unsuspecting mouth, taking her breath away as usual.

'You having fun up here?' She quizzed, nodding at his phone.
'Ya mean with the pictures an' that?' His voice rumbled through to her core, 'I need something to look at when I'm in the nursing home, don't I?'.

He was totally right.
She liked that under this 'Jack Grealish' persona, he was sentimental, he cared.

Sophie was the same, but it was also something that Ryan had put her down for. She was forever being told off for keeping tickets, printing out physical photographs and making scrapbooks of holidays and memories.

'Ya think we can get a picture togetha then? Or am I still yer filthy secret?' he quizzed, raising an eyebrow at her.
Sophie mockingly rolled her eyes, 'I thought you'd never ask'.
His eye crinkles deepened in response to the smile forming around his mouth, which made her immediately feel those butterflies, which seemed to be getting stronger with each and every minute she spent with Jack.

He pulled her in close with one quick movement of his strong arm, which was now snaked snuggly around her shoulders and neck.
They both smiled as Jack pressed the shutter multiple times, capturing all the usual nauseatingly cheesy poses.

One with him kissing her cheek, one laughing and one of them with their lips firmly connected, eyes closed.
Lost in lust.