hard feelings - an erling haaland story

eleven

Eyes followed them as they entered the restaurant, Amelia suddenly feeling insecure as she walked alongside Erling. Sounds of hushed whispers filled the air, almost suffocating her. He noticed her unease and tried to comfort her, taking her hand in his, something he had done many a time throughout their childhood. However, this time, she pulled her hand away from his, taking a step to the side, moving away from him. He gave her a quick glance, noticing the unease in her face. He attempted to grab her hand again, letting her know she wasn't alone, but instead of being met with her soft eyes, she had greeted him with a scowl, her face scrunched up in disgust. "Did you not get the hint the first time?" Her words spat like venom.

The change in behaviour made Erling's head spin, no longer than thirty minutes ago, it was as though it was just her and Erling against the world, like she was unstoppable knowing she had Erling whipped. Now, she was rude and spiteful, like a switch had been flicked and she had instantly regret all her previous words to him. It made him feel slightly nauseous, but he tried his hardest to brush it aside, knowing all eyes were on them. It would've been alright for him if it had just been their family, they had known both of them enough to not immediately escalate ideas and thoughts from their actions.

He put on a smile on his face, her actions and words confusing and upsetting him. His mind not able to process the events that just occurred. He so desperately wanted to get into her mind and see what had caused her change in attitude, but he knew this wouldn't be an option. He watched her as she sat next to her dad, her arm twisting around his, a smile appearing on his face. Her movements providing a glimpse into their past, reminding him of the shell of the little girl she used to be.

"Sono stanca, Pappa." She spoke, her father pulling her closer to his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Her once tense body relaxing in her father's embrace, a sight that made him so nostaglic it had made him overwhelmed. It was something he had seen so often during their younger years. He recalled all the moments that she had done the same to him, cuddling into his arm and in a way, that would be considered criminal, she would utter the words "Jeg er trøtt, E." He began to crave that same touch he had experienced many times, as though he had been starved for years and he was on the verge of dying if it continued. He would always grow frustrated as she began to drift off on his arm, not wanting to be restrained by the sleeping girl. Now? He would pay anything to experience that same feeling again.

She had been fine before entering the restaurant, now, as she sat opposite him, he could see that her face had been drained of colour, not even her makeup could hide it. Her eyes had been scanning the room and although she had felt a slight release of tension cuddled into her father, she still looked uneasy. Ghastly to say the least. "Are you okay, skatt?" His mother asked, eyes fixated on the grey looking woman in fromt of them. She didn't respond, just nodding her head and keeping her gaze, everywhere but Erling's gaze.

He watched as she conversed with her mother in Italian in a hushed whisper, barely loud enough to notice that it had been going on, keeping her gaze down at the cutlery placed neatly in front of her. "You need to stop, you're making her cry." Her father scolded. "On her birthday, in front of our friends, you're unbelievable."

With that, Amelia pushed herself up, excusing herself from the table, apologising profusely to the family that had joined them to celebrate her birthday, before sprinting out of the restaurant. Alessia's eyes softened at the hurt of her daughter, something she hadn't meant to cause. "I didn't do anything, if you paid attention, you would've noticed that the moment she walked through those doors, she was upset about something." Erling instantly followed her actions, shooting up himself; he was interrupted by a grab of his sleeve. "Let her have time alone." Her mother spoke. "She'll only say something to you that she'll regret."