Off-Court (COMPLETED)

The quick russian hug

Demille sighed as a memory from ten years ago flashed in her mind. She recalled how, as a kid, she used to scream and hurt herself whenever she felt sad, pressured, or stressed. Watching Andrey hit his tennis racket on the ground, injure his knee, and scream in frustration brought back memories of her twelve-year-old self who struggled in much the same way.

"What’s making you sad or stressed at this time of night?" Demille asked softly. Andrey didn’t answer he simply stared off into the distance, his eyes unfocused.

"Funny" she continued, "it feels like I’m looking at my twelve-year-old self when I watch you play. I used to do the same thing—hurting myself when I was really stressed"

Andrey remained silent, but Demille pressed on, her tone gentle "I’m not judging you, Andrey. Even now, I sometimes feel the urge to act out when I’m overwhelmed, but I’ve learned to control it. It’s okay to scream, to vent, but you have to stop hurting yourself"

"Thank you” Andrey murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Andrey listened quietly as Demille spoke about her past "I was thirteen when I met a therapist. She was kind and sweet, and she helped me a lot." Demille reached into her wallet and pulled out a calling card, offering it to Andrey, who simply stared at it without taking it.

"I don’t think I need that" he said, his voice firm yet uncertain.

Demille smiled, understanding his hesitation. That had been her reaction, too, when she first heard the word "therapist"

"I know someone else who can help you” she said, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

"Who?" Andrey asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You, Andrey Rublev” she replied with a grin.

Andrey chuckled, shaking his head at her playful suggestion. Demille watched him closely, noticing that despite his earlier frustration, he seemed to be in a slightly better mood.

"Let’s eat" she said suddenly, standing up and starting to gather the tennis balls scattered across the court "Come on, help me out here!" she called out.

Still recovering from the surprise of their conversation, Andrey stood up and began picking up the tennis balls. He couldn’t help but wonder, Is she asking me out on a date again?

"A date again?" Andrey teased, his voice light.

Demille rolled her eyes and playfully threw a tennis ball at him. "Shut up" she said, continuing to pick up the balls.

After they finished cleaning up the court, Andrey put on his jacket, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Demille as she led the way out.

"This is the second time you’ve asked me out on a date”  Andrey remarked, walking beside her with a shrug. Demille glanced at him, noticing that he was finally smiling.

"Maybe I’ll say yes the third time" he added with a wink, causing Demille’s heart to skip a beat. She quickly shook off the strange feeling.

"Y-you’re so weird” she stammered, glaring at him playfully.

Andrey suggested a restaurant that Fer and his family had taken him to on his first day in Barcelona years ago. When they arrived, Demille was struck by the charm of the old-style restaurant, its design and structure reminiscent of a bygone era. She couldn’t help but think, "This place is my mom’s vibe"

While Demille marveled at the vintage atmosphere, Andrey watched her expression change from curiosity to amazement.

"My mom would love this place" Demille said, meeting Andrey’s eyes. "She loves vintage things"

"You should bring her here” Andrey suggested, and Demille nodded.

"I will. Did you ever bring your mother here? Did she like it?" Demille asked, her tone light and curious.

Andrey’s expression shifted, and he looked away, taking a deep breath. Sensing she had touched on a sensitive topic, Demille quickly tried to lighten the mood.

"Or maybe you’ve already brought your five girlfriends here on different days, huh?" she teased, earning a laugh from Andrey.

"Shesh! Andrey the playboy" she added, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

"I don’t have a girlfriend!" Andrey said defensively, still laughing.

Demille made a face, pretending not to believe him. They were interrupted when the waiter arrived with their menus. Unsure of what to order, Demille let Andrey choose for her.

"Two orders of Fideuà, please" Andrey told the waiter. He then raised an eyebrow at Demille "And for drink?"

"An orange juice, please" she replied.

"And two orange juice" Andrey added. The waiter nodded, repeating their order before heading to the kitchen.

"If you like seafood and noodles, you’ll love this dish" Andrey assured her.

"It better be good, Rublev, because you’re the one paying" Demille quipped.

Andrey nodded seriously "Don’t worry, this is our second date, so I believe the man should always pay"

"Shut up, Rublev!" Demille retorted, rolling her eyes, though she couldn’t help but smile at his playful attitude.

As they waited for their food, Demille found herself surprised by how talkative Andrey was. His laughter was loud and contagious, drawing curious glances from the other customers, but neither of them cared. They were having too much fun. As they chatted, Demille couldn’t help but notice the details of Andrey’s face—his stubble, his perfect teeth, his expressive eyes, his strong nose, and his warm smile. She also observed his mannerisms, how he kept touching his chin, his face, and running his fingers through his soft, curly hair.

"He’s cute" she thought, only to mentally slap herself. "What the f*ck am I thinking?"

Their conversation was interrupted when the waiter returned with their food. "Here’s your order, Ma’am and Sir” the waiter said, placing the dishes on the table.

"Thank you!" they both chimed in.

Demille scanned the food Andrey had ordered, feeling her mouth water. They began eating, and she couldn’t stop complimenting the food. Andrey was overjoyed that she was enjoying herself. He had been nervous that she might get bored talking to him, but it seemed like she was having just as much fun as he was. Funny how their paths always crossed when he was in trouble and really needed someone to talk to. Even if it was only for a few hours, he was grateful that her presence had lifted his spirits and made him forget all his worries.

After their meal, Andrey walked with Demille until they reached the guest house. His apartment was about fifteen minutes away from there. As they reached the entrance, Demille turned to him and handed him her phone.

"Put your number in” she said casually, catching Andrey off guard.

"W-what?" he stammered, surprised by her request.

Demille rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Since we’re friends now, I want your contact number in case you need someone to talk to”

She winked at him, and Andrey, momentarily forgetting how to speak, took her phone and entered his number.

When Demille got her phone back, she immediately called Andrey’s number. "Gotcha!" she laughed when Andrey answered the call.

"Hola” Andrey said, his voice warm.

"Hola, weird guy" Demille replied, rolling her eyes before ending the call. "Be safe going home" she added, her tone sincere.

Andrey nodded, unable to wipe the smile off his face. "Yes, I will. Thank you!"

With a quick burst of courage, Andrey hugged Demille before running off. Demille stood there, stunned, as she processed what had just happened. Her heart was racing, and her face felt like it was burning. *Why is my heartbeat so fast? And why do I feel like my face is on fire?!