Runaway affair

Space

Space- Sabrina Carpenter

Ford POV:

I don't know, I guess I've finally understood why people become villains in stories.

They're either hurt or misunderstood, but it sucks when you finally do understand it. It makes you realize that there are so many things that go into a hero, that you just forget about the villain so you automatically assume that they're bad.

And that part is sad, I knew that somewhere deep within me, wanted to regret what went down with Lizzie.

But ultimately, I knew that her coming back into my life would change me somehow. At this point, all I wanted to do was run away from my problems, but I know that's not how life works.

I felt troublesome in knowing that blaming Lizzie for my actions was gnawing away at her.

I know she hurt because I hurt.

It seems like I cared way more than Florence did. She hadn't attempted to reach out but I respected her request for space. I just wanted her back more than anything in this world.

No one POV

Everything began to eat away at him slowly.

He was missing meals, sleeping only but two hours. It was truly scary. That time he spent giving Florence her requested space, he focused into practice.

When he couldn't sleep in the middle of the night, he would practice. While his teammates and friends went out to dinners and clubs, he was practicing passing drills.

The days piled together, his teammates began to grow deeply concerned about their starting forward. But to Ford, the outside world didn't seem to matter.

"Grant!" Steve Cherundolo called, the rest of the team dispersing back to the locker room. "Sir" Ford replied, turning to be met with his coach. "Talk to me son, what's going on with you?" The manager questioned.

He took in the notion of the younger man's frail body. His once tan skin, reduced to a light pale in light of not seeing sun for days. His former bulked and built body was slowly loosing its tone.

There was something in his crystal colored eyes he hadn't quite seen before.

Brokenness.

"I'm fine coach. Just trying to prepare myself for Fridays game" Fords sleek accent rang. "I can tell, but I think you're overexerting yourself. Maybe you should take the next few days of to rest" the man asked.

"I think I'll be okay, there's no such thing as being overly prepared" Ford replied, slightly agitated. "Son, I think it's best. There's no sense in straining your muscles before the game" the coach replied.

Ford seethed, clinching his fists together to the point where his knuckles rang white. Steve brought his hand to grasp onto his players shoulder.

"Go home Grant, I'll see you back here on Friday" he spoke. "But coach-" Ford was soon cut off by the older man. "Go home or I won't allow you to play in the game" he concluded, patting Ford's back as he walked off the field.

It was true, he needed to rest.

However, he just couldn't bring himself to do it. By practicing all the time it kept his mind off the pain he felt when he was alone.