Choosing sides

Bright lights and louder chatter filled the big hospitality room at Wembley stadium, the sky outside the large floor to ceiling windows was slowly turning into a midnight blue, coincidentally the colour of your boyfriends national team.

Family and friends were littered everywhere, as you observed the crowd, this day had been looming for months for you. Andy had never shut up about the up coming England vs Scotland game, though he refused to put England first when talking about it despite it being played at Wembley, you sniggered at the thought of the stubborn man you went to bed with every night.

You watched how slowly his captain and full back friend became the enemy, the switch was quite admiral.

But what was down right sexy was your man wearing his own country's kit, captaining his national side with such immense pride you could see it roll off of him in waves.

The focus, sexy.

The determination, hot.

The way he looked wearing that captain armband, criminal.

The thought of this match made you feel sick, you'd been a football fan for as long as you could remember and Always followed the red side of Liverpool, But tonight your national team was the enemy of the man you'd been falling in love with for the last six months.

Andy had gotten you tickets for tonight's game, in amongst the thick of the Scottish family and friends of the team.

You'd met his parents only last month and you felt pretty good about how the encounter had gone, his mother was warm and funny, and his dad was simply Andy in 20 years time.

Andy had told you that night that they loved you and soon they'd adore you like he did.

However, sitting through a football game like this was sure to be a test in his parents eyes. The English girl, rooting for the Scotland team?

It was a friendly, nothing to do with qualifying but nothing about it felt friendly.

You'd gotten to Wembley early, you'd made the journey down with Trent's girlfriend and the two of you had hung out for most of the day before it was time for you to go to your respective sides.

You never thought you'd see the day that you would be hoping for a draw for your country but it was all you had manifested all day.

Since your little stunt at the Etihad you'd been on your best behaviour, the game hadn't ended well. But your night had when the Scotsman took you home and took his frustrations out on you in bed.

He hadn't once mentioned about where you would sit for todays game, never questioning where your loyalty lay, whether to your boyfriend or country.

Trent had gifted you the New England shirt over dinner with the four of you cosied in the corner of the restaurant, when you'd opened it Andy had laughed across at his friend until he muttered about you reading the back.

In bold lettering read the letters, STONES the number 5 beneath it. You dropped it back in the box and rolled your eyes placing the box on the floor as you felt the fury rolling off Andy as Trent practically wet himself across from you.

"You can take that and you can burn it!" The emphasis on burn broadening his Scottish accent further.

"Don't bite" you told him placing your hand high on his thigh. His wide eyes looked at your totally relaxed face.

"Aye yeah, Robbo it's only a joke." A joke that had ensured her jaw ached after getting home from dinner that night, the way she'd worshiped and reassured her lover that the English man was not even on her radar.