Neymar x reader- boundless pontential -

chapter 9

This was it. The final day, the final practice, the finished version. Sweat was dripping off of y/n's body in waves, she felt hot and dizzy yet She knew this feeling well, at some point decided to take some pride in it. It meant she did her best, that she was carrying her weight and contributed to the team.

"Now, listen, listen, listen" Ms Leila wagged her finger around. "Wipe yourselves down, take a sip of water and then we'll film the final take". She regarded each of them with a proud smile. "There's reason to worry, absolutely no reason, not a single reason at all".

"You think we'll pass?" Jules asked.

"I know you will" she answered, not an inkling of doubt in her voice.

Filming the final dance was less nerve wracking than y/n thought it would be. At this point the moves became second nature, she could have fun with it and appreciate the attention on her. Having professional cameramen felt imposing at first, but she decided to think of them as an audience and that made everything feel way easier.

By the time they were done, y/n too had no doubt that they could pass this. They had too.

The way to their rooms was silent. None of them had any energy to speak, they were praying for victory and planning to tackle whatever would come next. Y/n wobbled to her room, her vision blurring as every ten seconds her eyes threatened to close.

When she finally reached her door, she opened it up, letting out the hugest sigh of relief she could.

"Before you turn around, let me announce my presence".

Y/n didn't shriek or jump, and even when she did turn around, she couldn't process him being there. "Great" she whispered to herself. "I'm hallucinating now. Or maybe I just dreamt this whole day up".

Neymar raised an eyebrow amusedly. "Though being in your dreams sounds flattering, I can assure you I'm real".

"Uhuh" y/n clicked her tongue. It wasn't the first time she thought she could hear Neymar's voice, or feel his presence. It wasn't the first time she dreamt of him either, or let her daydreams become so vivid she swore they were reality.

"Can you move to the side, I'm tired". Wordlessly, 'Neymar' shifted, letting y/n collapse on the bed.

She could hear him chuckle, "I was expecting a bigger reaction, but this might be even better".

There was no use in talking to him, it might even be the tipping point to y/n's sanity. Imagine her talking to an imaginary Neymar she conjured up. It sounded mental. It *was* mental.

But she felt so alone. The tense nature of the competition had pushed her to a brink. It made sleeping a whole lot harder, made interacting with her friends seem bothersome. They had to focus on dancing and nothing else. What she loved doing had almost become a job.

"Why did you give me your shirt?" She asked.

She could feel him shift, but that was probably just her mind playing tricks on her. "When you said that stuff about t-shirts in your debut video, something in me wanted to see you wearing mine".

Y/n only hummed as a response. Neymar laughed, and it sounded identical to the one on the jet. The pure warmth it radiated was magical, y/n didn't realise just how much she missed it.

"You're really tired, aren't you, Linda?".
It's only when y/n felt a hand on her back that everything crashed. The magic, her dreamy state, the sleepiness. The hand on her back traveled slowly, dipping into a tense spot and smoothing it out.

Y/n sighed, her body relaxing for just a split moment before curling in on itself. She sat up quickly, spluttering over her words and trashing widly, .

"Oh goodness, oh my lord, my days- you're not a- you're real!".

He let out another laugh. "That's what I've been saying".

"What are you doing here? How'd you even get inside?" And why do you people keep barging into my room like they own the damn place!?".

Neymar leaned back on the bed, spreading his legs and crossing his arms. "One, I'm here because I'm impatient. Two, you don't lock your door, which is very stupid might I add, especially when you're in a competition".

"Impatient?" Y/n echoed. "Last I checked we didn't set up any meetings".

"We were about to, but you've kept your phone off for two whole days and haven't looked at any of my messages. So I took it upon myself to ask you in person".

If Y/n didn't feel so tired, she might've felt some embarrassment. After Vera's comment, she got so paranoid about the t-shirt that she decided to turn off her phone and lock both up in her suitcase. Big mistake, I guess.

"What happend to not letting anybody see us together" y/n hissed. "You know- the press and all that. It'd be even worse if people catch you in my room, you know".

A smug glint crossed his eyes. "Trust me, when it comes to these walls, nothing gets out unless I allow it to".

Y/n didn't like his cockiness. "So if I screamed right now, what would happen?".

He tilted his head, pretending to ponder over the answer. "Well-" he grinned, showing off his teeth. "People would think you're having a good time, I suppose".

"You're disgusting" Y/n spat. "Why don't we test that out then, hm?".

"Go ahead, but I'll have you know-". Suddenly he was close, too close, if he so much as shifted their lips would connect. His hazel eyes stared straight into hers: Amused, unblinking, like this was all a game.

"If you tried to scream right now. Nobody would hear you, do you know why?" His hand lifted up, softly finding its way onto her shoulder. He barely put any pressure, but it still felt heavy.

Y/n froze, breath stuck in her throat, he smelled spicy, like cinnamon mixed with coconut. She hated how good it was, how it made her remember their first encounter or how his t-shirt felt like, how he feels.

"Why?" She managed to croak out, voice unsteady, her body starting to quiver.

He pulled her in just a tad bit, smiling right into her face, his teeth almost clashing with her lips. "The rooms are soundproof" he whispered, pulling back completely.

"I don't have much time left" he checked his watch. "So let's get to business, shall we?".