C O D E W O R D | neymar jr

XXXIX

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I stepped into the bustling airport, pulling down my sleeves as a waft of cold air hit me. I weaved through the crowd, scurrying to the pickup station as my mother's rusty car held back the journey. Nerves and excitement danced in my stomach.

I peered over everyone's heads, from taxi drivers to family, and my oxygen felt limited in the confined place. My eyes darted from the floors to the wall. I was attempting to spot a dark and curly-haired man arriving through the gates.

My gaze landed on him. My thoughts melted as I realised he had travelled all this way to see me, even for only two days. I showed a considerable wave as he slightly lifted his cap to notice me, his disguise failing as surrounding people began to whisper.

His body was draped in layers of fabric, from joggers to an oversized hoodie, and he was suited with a hat and sunglasses. Yet no matter how many layers he had, everyone could recognise one of the best superstars football had to offer.

He rushed towards me, keeping his head low as he politely pushed through the crowd. I grinned at the most confident man I had ever known being anxious, his prolific lifestyle not aiding the situation.

Without saying a word, I was pulled towards the exit with a gentle tug. I also kept my head to the ground and followed him to a less dense area, and finally, he spoke. "Who knew everyone wanted to be here?" He joked, but confusion clouded my face. I couldn't understand his secrecy.

"It's a pretty popular airport," I said, my voice betraying my bewildered state. "It is August, and this is Italy." I laughed slightly, yet it was delivered in an insulting tone.

We settled into the car, beginning our journey to the rural countryside. A side of the country that tourists would never dare to visit. My teenage memories include long walks and train rides to find some sustenance.

My hands rolled across the wheel, the car throwing us around during every turn. "Never in my life would I imagine you driving a car like this." I scoffed at his joke, adjusting myself to the chipped leather seats and the engine growling at the insult.

"I must've fallen off recently," I teased, violently changing the gears and experiencing a sudden increase in speed as we entered the motorway. Silence filled the car again, our chemistry replenishing with each passing second. "What does Vittoria think about this trip?" He responded in silence, his tight smile giving me the only answer I needed. I widened my eyes in shock, attempting to focus on the road, but my vision stuck on him. "You didn't tell her?"

"How do you expect me to tell her?" He defended himself, his arms raised in innocence. "It's only two days."

"Two days with your ex-girlfriend and her family," I argued. The lack of conflict on his face furthers the playful smile on my lips because he ditched his girlfriend to visit me. A hint of delight and guilt.

Stillness thickened the air again, the weight of our shared blame arguing against our morality. The journey was long, like embarking on an endless ocean, captive to the waves. We were initially excited about his company, but now the consequences are looming over us.

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"Neymar!" My mother smiled, pulling him into a hug, yet I chose to ignore her compassion after the awkward two-hour journey I went through. Nonetheless, I opened the boot of the car and began to offload the bags.

Instantly, he grabbed his bags, not allowing me to carry them. We made eye contact with a slight smile as we entered the large brick house, vines draping along the sides. The rustic elegance brought me back to my childhood, with the natural surroundings of fields and forests allowing my breath to feel clean compared to the modern cities I usually reside in.

I followed them into the living room. Noticing the furniture that hadn't changed since my childhood: photos laying against the wooden tables, a rustic sofa covered in beige pillows stating different phrases, including family and love, and plant pots with vegetables and fruits growing against the windowsill

Yet the more modern changes were evident in the quaint home. TVs and computers lay against old desks and coffee tables, my younger brother's iPad charging on the floor, careful not to step on it.

"How was the trip?" My mother, Paola, asked. Rushing from the kitchen and living room to get more snacks I looked over at Neymar as he sat across from me. His tattoos were accentuated as he rubbed his hands together before rustling them in his hair.

His hair was shorter than when I last saw him, and his stubble was slightly overgrown. I noticed the two hooped silver earrings that dangled down, matching his chain and watch in colour. However, as much as he attempted to drape his body in accessories, no one could distract me from that face.

He grinned at my mother as she brought out the food, attempting to assist her as he began to stand up yet promptly being sat down again. He played with his hat, catching it between his fingers as I fell into a trance.

His charismatic smile and playful demeanour were enough to cause me to hold back my own, watching as he fought my mother on helping out to serve the food. I never focused on his smile; usually, his eyes were enough to cause me to stumble, yet now I could only focus on it.

My gaze lay on his lips—the lips I could once kiss, yet now they were out of bounds. I bit my tongue at the sight of him, completely immersed in my own private pornography that lay right in front of me. His arms were now completely revealed after he took off his hoodie, and for once, I thanked the Italian heat for its existence.

His arms were draped in artwork; additionally, they were outlined in muscles, resulting in a perfect sight. Also, his neck was more revealed, and my eyes darted towards his tattoo, three birds along with the words tudo passa, everything passes.

"Anastasia!" My mother clicked in front of me. "Please, can you help me in the kitchen?" she said as she gripped my wrist, dragging me into another room and slamming the door. My hex had soon been transformed into a cry for help as I massaged my damaged wrist.

"What is wrong with you?" I yelled, pushing her away to avoid further damage. "You could've just asked; you didn't need to break my arm."

She rested against the countertop, sucking her teeth as she shook her head. Her eyes squinted as she stared at her not-so-darling daughter. "I am not the bad one; if I left you one more second, you would've been pregnant."

"Mamma-" I hushed, putting my hand over my mouth, at my conservative mother's inappropriate words. "You can't say things like that,"

She further squinted her eyes, practically closing them before responding. "No, I can, because I think even the spirit of your father could see that you wanted to have sex with him." She said it, and again I hushed her. "I don't know why you want me to be quiet; everyone could see it!"

"No, they couldn't," I defended. She raised her arms in disbelief at my stubbornness and began to satirically mock me. She pulled her hair towards the side, biting her lip and making incomprehensible noises to imitate me as I pushed her arms down. "Mamma stop-"

"Fine, fine," she laughed as she stepped away from me. "But no more sexy eyes. You look desperate." I scoffed at her comment yet began to aid her in chopping up vegetables. My mind was blown at the once conservative and traditional Italian woman to the mother that talked about my 'sexy eyes'.

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A/N: I LOVE ALL OF YOU!!! The amount of support I've got is insane and I appreciate you all so much!! Also, I've got one more week until exams so prepare for updates everyday soon :))