control - Alexia Putellas

30.

did anyone notice? 👀

seems like no one reads closely. and no one looks closely. ☕️✍🏼

Walking into the breakfast room the following morning, just minutes after the sun had been rising above New Zealand's most populated city, the two time Ballon D'Or winner was relieved when she realized she was, as usual, the first.

Bleached hair were tied up in a messy bun, the midfielder not even trying to conceal the dark rings under her tired eyes, the lack of sleep visible on her otherwise flawless visage.

Loading her plate with the usual, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in the other hand, Alexia makes her way to the smaller table in the corner, the giant window offering a fantastic view over Viaduct Harbour.

The sun had just risen over the east of the city, reflecting in the sea, and ferries were departing and docking at the waterfront, while the captain's weary, hazel eyed surveyed the breathtaking view.

The two time Ballon D'Or winner was tired.

Because after Erin had left the junior suite in the middle of the night, the brunette didn't get a wink of sleep.

She always had trouble falling asleep after match day, and when she did, the quality was usually neither satisfying, nor enough.

And last night wasn't any different.

The encounter with Jorge, Erin's sudden departure because of some strangers call, and the fact that they didn't think about putting the tablet away, made the challenge of catching at least a little bit of sleep even more challenging.

No matter how professional Alexia was.

No matter how many hours of mental training and the tons of routines she followed over and over again, in desperate need to control herself.

Nothing seemed to help.

Rubbing her tired eyes as she watches one of those white ferries dock at the harbor, Alexia couldn't help but sigh as she heard footsteps coming her way.

„Ale... buenos días", resounded another tired voice, the smaller, and younger woman taking her seat beside the captain.

With a cup of hot chocolate and a plate loaded with fruit, it was none other than Ona Batlle, who had joined Alexia, disturbing the midfielders comfortable silence.

"Hola, Ona", Alexia greets her with a soft smile, a fake one, her voice faint and hoarse as hazel eyes shift back to the scenery outside, willing to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere for a few more moments.

Sipping from her cup of hot chocolate after popping one of the apple slices into her mouth, the shy right back couldn't help but blush as she realized Alexia pretended as if she wasn't there.

"Um...", the younger woman nervously shifts in her seat, trying to get the captain's attention as she mumbles a quiet, "Can I... talk to you?"

This had Alexia look up, sparkling hazel eyes looking at the person that had once been her teammate.

"Well, you're talking to me", Alexia chuckles softly as she sips from her glass of freshly pressed orange juice, the fake smile still lingering on her tender lips when she looks at Ona.

That's when she realizes the right back was blushing.

She was visibly nervous.

Reaching out to fold her hand on top of Ona's, Alexia furrows an eyebrow as she realizes how nervous the younger woman truly was.