Pablo Gavi (FCBarcelona) - This Is Nice

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by the-offside-rule

by the-offside-rule

Requested: on wattpad
Prompts: 3) "I'll stay as long as you need me to."
5) "Will you just...hold me please?"
Warnings: none just flluff

As the car busy bustling slowly but surely quietened down, the loud people went home and the children playing football were called by their mothers, evening set on the warm city of Barcelona. Y/n sat on the floor in her apartment, a glass of coffee in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. A soft smile rested on her lips as she contently painted the outside of her balcony. Her front door opened and in came her boyfriend she loved oh so dearly, looking tired and slumping.

"Hola, amor." Pablo sighed as he dropped his bag in the hall and quickly took off his jacket. "Hello. How was the flight home?" She asked, sipping on her glass. "I wouldn't know. I fell asleep." He admitted and walked in through the door to see her extensive paint collection sprawled across the floor. "Why so much paint?" He asked. Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Shading I suppose."

"Can I sit in here while you paint?" The small voice asked. Y/n's smile softened as a sigh left her lips. "Of course you can." She patted the pillow next to her and resumed painting. Instead of sitting, Pablo lay down and rested his head onto her lap. He opened his eyes and gazed up at her, still painting, but instead of her fingers wrapped around a glass, they were entangled in his hair. "This is nice." He whispered. "It will be until you realise there is paint in your hair." Y/n mumbled. "What?" His eyes opened in panic. "I'm joking. Don't worry." He nodded and went back to relaxing, taking in the sound around him, only for it to be broken a short while after.

"Do you mind if I put on Taylor Swift?" She asked. Pablo groaned. "Okay, fine. I won't." She replied. "No, I have no problem with her, it's just you listen to her so often I end up humming the songs at training." He looked up. "They like to make fun of me for it." Y/n chuckled. "Well you can certainly sing her songs. You're voice suits them." He gave her an unamused look, knowing his voice wasn't the best. "Don't do this to me. Don't make me think I'm the next Enrique Iglesias." Y/n laughed shook her head and chuckled.

"Y/n?" For a moment, she stopped painting and looked down at the spaniard. He looked defeated, tired completely sick. "Can you just hold me please?" He mumbled quietly. "Of course I will." She replied, setting her paints aside and holding him in her grasp and stroking his face with her delicate fingers. "This is nice." He said. "Is that the only thing you enjoy saying in English?" She asked him. "No, I like saying your name. I like saying it in Spanish too." He whispered. "Anything else you like saying in English?"

"That I love you." Y/n chuckled and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. "I think it sounds better in Spanish too."