The feelings that we hide ~Neybappe~

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Neymar was laying in his bed. He rolled over, his eyes barely open. His bed was askew now, the neatly arranged pillows laying on the floor. He could feel one of his last pillows teetering at the edge, and he nudged it over with his foot. The blur of the LED lights overhead often kept him awake, but he never slept without them on. He stared at the ceiling as he ran his fingers through his short locks. He had one person on his mind who never seemed to leave.

The team was out on a boys night and wanted him to come though he kindly declined their offer on the pretext that he had some really important documents to fill.

He's been skipping practise for 5 days now. He didn't really reply to any messages and didn't pick up his teammate's calls either.

The plasma screen sat in front of him like an unwelcomed mirror. Neymar tried not to look, but with it off the reflected mess in the room seemed so much worse than the real thing. The television should mean fantasy, looking at the lives of others, being a fly on the wall - not a poor copy of his own disorder. He didn't need the monotony of his own life being reflected back to him. His eyebrows raised, his mouth felt bitter, his cheeks felt tight, then almost without a conscious thought he picked up the remote on the floor to select a random channel so he won't look at his reflection anymore. That felt right.

The man layed there for 10 more minutes staring into the nothingness then he decided to get up and get a glass of water. When even was the last time he drank water?

He slowly stood up and walked out of the dark room. His legs felt like jelly. He descended the stairs and entered the kitchen where he took a glass and poured some cold water in it.

He sat in the dark room. A layer of black clouds masked the full moon, filling the room with blue shadows. This made the atmosphere in his penthouse even creepier. It was like no one was living in there.

The Brazilian then looked out the window. Watching the trees howl and the dark clouds made him relaxed.

His thoughts then filled with that same person. How he purposely started avoiding him just because of his feelings for the other man. Neymar's liked him for a long time though he recently came to the conclusion  that avoiding him would help him move on.

And ignoring someone is the best way to forget them. Right?

Of course it wasn't. It was one of the most painful things he's done. His eyes began watering up as he slammed his hand on the counter. What was up with him?

His thought were erupted by the sudden ring of the bell.

At 2 am?

The Brazilian went beside the front door. At this point he didn't really care who it was so he opened it quickly.

He looked up to be met with a beautiful pair of dark brown eyes.

"Kylian..?"

"Ney." The Frenchman looked worried sick.

"What happened to the boys' night..?" He asked feeling nausea take the control of his body.

"It wasn't the same without the person dancing for 5 minutes straight every time he scores a goal on fifa." They both chuckled lightly the younger man never breaking eye contact.

"You can.. come in." The older man said as he switched on the lights in the living room. He really didn't want Kylian of all people seeing the state of his home but he felt like he was going to pass out if he didn't sit somewhere. Good thing was that the living room wasn't as messy as the other rooms.

The Frenchman suspiciously scanned the room. He knew how much of a clean freak Neymar was so he felt as confused as ever. The older man sat on the sofa and the younger followed.

"So.. what brings you here..?" The Brazilian asked even though he knew the reason he was here.

"Maybe because you've been skipping practise for like a week, purposely ignoring my text messages and calls and avoiding me for the last month. And you have to fill documents? What the hell man?" Spoke the Frenchman in a sarcastic, yet sad tone as he turned to look the Brazilian in the eye. Their faces were inches apart, Neymar's breath quickening, his cheeks reddening and the tension getting so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.

The older man stayed quiet. He looked down and fidgeted with his hands nervously.

"Why are you so quiet?" The younger asked as he put a finger on the Brazilian's chin and brought it up to him to look him in the eyes.

"So there's no reason behind the avoiding? You just don't want to be friends with me, is that it? You hate me?"

All he wanted to say was 'I love you so much' but he just couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to do that. He didn't want their friendship to end.

"Ugh. Just man up for once and tell me."

And that was it.

"MAN UP? MAN UP? I'VE LIKED YOU FOR 4 FUCKING YEARS. I DIDN'T WANT TO RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP BECAUSE OF THIS SO I TRIED AVOIDING YOU THINKING THAT IT WAS GONNA WORK AND I WAS GONNA MOVE ON FROM YOU FINALLY." He started shouting. He was furious. He was heartbroken.

"And in the end.. it didn't even work. Why can't I stop loving you. It made me think of you even more. Why can't I be a normal person." Tears started streaming down his face.

"I tried everything. .. I tried purposely getting into arguments with you. I was sleeping with a new woman every day for fuck's sake. It never seemed to help. It never seemed to help me stop loving you. What's wrong with me." He put his head in his head in frustration.

The younger man was shocked.

"I'm sorry Ney.." He bit his lip and hugged the older. Weak attempts of letting go of the younger's grip were made but when Neymar realised he won't be able to let go he just stopped trying.

Salty tears watered the Frenchman's black shirt as he rubbed circles on the back of his closest friend.

"Ney."

"Ney!" The younger slightly raised his voice which made the Brazilian jump.

"I love you too you idiot."