hard feelings - an erling haaland story

twelve

He sat next to her on his sofa, his arm placed on her shoulder, a film she had picked playing. "Should I be scared? Why did you pick this movie, Mia?"

She let out a massive laugh at his words taking her by surprise. Sure, she had picked Midsommar but she hadn't expected him to read so much into it. He frowned as she laughed at him, shifting her body so she was sat cross-legged on the sofa, facing him. Erling pretended not to notice her, keeping his gaze straight ahead, unable to fight the smile forming on his face. She poked at his cheek, innocently looking way the moment his head turned to look at her. A moment shared between them, so innocent yet meaningful to both of them.

It had been like this for the past few days, the two of them spending time together when able and sitting in each other's presence, not saying much, but appreciating every minute that they had together. Something between them that wasn't shared with the world. He found himself overwhelmed at the thought that he had given up so many years with her for no particular reason, so many moments that they could've had like the one they were in currently, for a girl he hasnt spoken to since, for someone whose facial features he couldnt even remember. He would be lying if he had said that her face filled his mind when they lost touch, all the anger he felt towards her for supposedly ending their friendship, despite now realising that it was him to blame, locked every memory away into a corner of his mind, where it lay untouched for years. She had begged them to keep their friendship ignited, so he could no longer blame her for the lack of years spent together. "Are you coming to my match this weekend?" He asked, hopeful.

She hesitated to answer, leaning into his chest, the words on the tip of her tongue. "Er, E, I don't think I should with the whole thing with Cole. Plus it's in Villa Park and I have a long day shift the next day. Travel would knock me out." He tried to hide his disappointment from her, knowing that it wasn't due to him, but he still felt upset that she wouldn't be there cheering him on. "Maybe the next home match? When is it? I can see if I have it off, or if not, I can ask someone at work to swap it so I can make it." Her gaze was intense, eyes not moving off his face, wanting to read every expression that appeared on it.

"Mia, it is okay, if you do not want to come, it is okay." He spoke, his fingers intertwining with the ends of her hair, twirling them around, following her natural curl pattern. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her, worried that if she were to leave his sight it would mean she would disappear for another eight years. "I forgot that you had hair like this. You should wear it like this more often. I like it a lot."

"I don't know, I remember when you'd fall asleep with your hand in my hair on road trips and then get all stroppy with me 'cause I would yelp from pain when you'd yank it down in your little twitches you get in your sleep. I think I'm going to try and avoid that happening again."

He huffed, turning away from her, in a joking manner. "It'd happen even if you straightened your hair."

Amelia shuffled closer to him, making his heart skip a beat. Her hand rushed up to his hair, tugging down on the ends suddenly, causing him to flinch from pain. "Not so fun when you're on the receiving end, now is it, Mr. Haaland?"

"I know something else that would be fun being on the receiving end of." He teased, Amelia immediately grabbed the cushion from under her and hit him with it.

"You're gross, Erling."

He scooped her under his arm, forcing her to lay on his stomach, as his fingers played with her hair. He looked down at her, grinning as he did so, noticing that Amelia had already been looking up at him, a similar smile plastered on her face. He thought about how naive he was to not realise that she had fancied him the entire time during their youth. He questioned his feelings, wondering if he also felt something for the young Australian girl at the time. Their parents often finding them in the same position that they were currently in. This was how he was able to learn how to braid hair, practicing on her hair as she lay on his lap.

Reflecting on their past, he could see where the insecurities of his previous girlfriend had stemmed from. That girl being the last person he had been with before deciding that he would throw himself into football and furthering his career, rather than waste time and energy on a relationship that he didn't need to have. He was young after all.

As he sat, with the woman slowly falling asleep at his hands, he reflected on their childhood, mind running through everything, searching for the answer to the question: did he also have a thing for the australian girl when they were younger? Surely, friends didn't act the same way they had all throughout their younger years, right? They were the bestest of friend, so he thought that would excuse their behaviour with each other. Denying that the younger version of him ever felt more than just a platonic love for the girl that lay on his lap all those years ago and who was still laying on his lap ten years later.

It had been rainy outside, though the late hour, the sky was still bright, colours of yellow and orange merging through, despite the rain that poured. He didn't want to move, afraid that he'd disturb her peace, sitting with his back pressed against the corner of his sofa, he stared out of the only window that was visible to him, frightened that the movement of him scrolling through his phone would wake her up.

Erling was awoken up by a sudden jolt from underneath him, his legs feeling cold from the lack of the previous tenant who had occupied them. He looked over at her, finding her hair sticking to her from the sweat dripping off her forehead, her face drained of the red colour that had presented itself on her cheeks as she slept. She looked disheveled, her trembles visible as she attempted to move the hair out of her face. Erling felt his stomach drop at the view of the vulnerable woman, resembling an image of her younger self, crying out for him in the dark room, frightened after a nightmare. There was a lack of innocence in her actions, she truly was frightened, fear radiated from her. He tried to comfort her, shuffling closer to her; his small action made her flinch, backing away from him. It was almost as though she was still in a dream, no words spoken from her, just a blank glare at her feet. It had hurt Erling to see her so vulnerable. He pulled her into his side, expecting her to fight it, expecting to get hit in the side as she protested being in his clutch, but, instead, he was met with the feeling of the woman releasing the tension she had in her body, though she still trembled, she rest her head against his shoulder, the contours of her face fitting perfectly against the contours of his shoulder and his neck, like a puzzle piece slotting together perfectly.

Erling's left hand drew circles on the back of her arm, whilst his left played with her tangled, curly hair. He shushed her, reminding her that she would be safe with him, that the dreams couldn't hurt her. A wave of nausea ran over him as he remembered Amelia doing this for him, as he had a nightmare, his voice shaking from fear, as his eyes scanned the room for her. Unsure as to what caused the switch, Erling felt even more sick at the thought of keeping Amelia close, and distracting him from his training.

As politely as he could, he pushed the sweaty small frame away from his. "We shouldn't do this, Amelia. Please leave and do not contact me. I will do that when I am ready to discuss."