control - Alexia Putellas

31.

Taking it all in, processing what the two time Ballon D'Or winner had said, the head coach crosses his arms over his chest, eyes shifting back and forth between Alexia and the slender therapist.

Swallowing, the captain felt her heart pump, her hands shaking from nervousness as she wonders if her excuse had been convincing enough.

And much to Alexia's relief, Jorge turned away from Erin, his expression telling her that he had, in fact, bought this excuse.

Though it took her a moment to realize he was facing her instead.

"Alexia...", he begins, his voice stern, expression serious as he speaks in a demanding tone, "you're aware that you always have to discuss the therapy dates with the organizer first, right? Players are not allowed to-"

"I'm aware of that, coach", the captain interrupts him, tender lips pressed into a flat line as hazel eyes gaze at the grey haired man.

"I prefer that all appointments are agreed upon. If I don't have control over every single member of this, my, team, then how can I guarantee we will be successful?", were the next words he said, his eyes momentarily shifting to the slender blonde with the tablet in hand, before settling on Alexia once again.

For a moment, there was only silence.

"Um...", the captain breathes, "Is that-"

"Will you follow my instructions from now on?", Jorge interrupts her, his gaze fixed on the two time Ballon D'Or winner.

Nodding slightly, her throat tight, Alexia breathes a faint, "Si"

What else would she say?

Because of course the perfect, controlled Alexia would do exactly what the coach asked her.

"I wasn't talking to you", he chuckles dryly, turning his head towards Erin as he says, "I was talking to her"

The blonde swallows, processing these words.

Silently she had listened to the conversation, grateful that Alexia had saved her from this.

From him.

"Got it, boss", Erin quips, hoping with these words, she would put an end to the conversation, and adds, "will not happen again"

A smirk forms on the trainer's lips, his expression stern, arms crossed over his chest as he replies in a demanding tone, "You better... a therapist is replaceable, you know"

Alexia's eyes dilate at the sound of these words.

And Jorge should be glad that he had decided to join the trainers' table without another word, without a reaction from either of them, because otherwise Alexia would've confronted him here and now, in front of everyone else who had, in the meantime, entered the room.

From now on, the fact that she didn't like Jorge would be an understatement.

From now on, she didn't just not like him. No. From now on, she hated him.

Both their eyes were fixed on the head coach, Jorge taking his place at the bigger table on the other end of the room, simply pretending like nothing had happened.

As if he didn't just tell his therapist that she was replaceable.

Wasn't everyone replaceable, though?

"Well", the blonde sighs, turns to the coffee machine and her cup of coffee, the milk foam had long dissolved into thin air, the fragrant liquid now cold as she shrugs, "I guess worse things have happened today... like a cold coffee... or that there's no caramel syrup here.. or-"