Define Me | A Soccer Romane [ NEYMAR JR. ]

7. tragedy by definition

The day he met her, he asked if she liked playing with people’s minds, few days of knowing her proved that not only she liked it, but she was damn good at it. The first night they spent talking together she asked him just how confident he could get and few days later proved to her that he could a lot. His tattoos were drawn with his ink on his skin, she could trace them all with her finger but the tattoos he left on her body were different. Every kiss, sharp enough to leave an invisible mark or sometimes visible on her skin. His touch, his palm on her hips, the morning after she could still feel it like his hands were stuck on her body. His smell, strong and invasive, filled her senses as she woke up. She stretched out her hands, out of the sheets that were covering her and let them land on the pillows, she tilted her head to look at them, biting her lips to stop herself from smiling. If she focused enough, she could still feel his curls in between her fingers, holding on to them for dear life while entered deep in her soul and made her mumbled every curse word she knew on the dictionary. She laughed at the memory, the memory of him turning her into a needy little girl while he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Her hand reached for her neck, her fingers gently pressing on the territory he had marked as his, she had to bottle down her laugh again, covering her lips with her hand. The lips that were only the night before. In the bed and after in the shower, when he stood behind her, kissing her shoulders while he helped her wash away every trouble and thought. Somewhere in between those moments she had covered his face with a shampoo, the two laughing like kids. Then back on the bed, there was silence this time, stillness and the feeling of sinking. Their bodies pressed into each other’s, his nose nuzzling on her neck. She held on his hands that were wrapped around her, interlocking her fingers with him.

They both must have moved in their sleep because now he was sleeping his face on the pillow, his head looking at the opposite direction of her and she was with her back on the mattress, her hair in a mess. Stealing glances at him. She reached for his broad shoulders that weren’t fully covered by the sheets, stroking his skin with her nail until he shifted just a little. She pulled her hand back, thinking about it. Then she put pressure on her body, twisting a little so she’d hover over him. She kissed his earlobe and his neck, earning soft sleepy ‘hms’ in response. She reached his lips “good morning” she whispered, making him smile in response before kissing him. That’s when he finally turned his body to face her, his arms finding it’s way to her waist, pushing her back gently, so he’d be over her instead.

“Bom dia” he kissed her, his tongue entering her mouth enough to get a moan. “So early in the morning?” he teased, making her blush while he moved closer to her. She placed her hand on his shoulders pushing him back a little, shaking her head. “What? No?” he narrowed his eyebrows.
“I want breakfast” she laughed, stroking his cheek.
“Anything my Princessa wants.” He smiled, giving her a quick kiss before getting up, pulling on the invisible string that was connecting the two of them, Gabriella felt her heart being dragged with him. She had to take a breath, in order to collect herself and get up with him. She looked around the room quickly spotting one of his Brazilian jerseys, yellow and green. She snatched it from the floor, putting it on quickly. The shirt reached down to her knees, she admired how it looked on the mirror, like she was always meant to wear it.