interdit, ˚⊹ jules koundé

𝟎𝟏𝟏.

"𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮; 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐤𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞?"

aline waltzed into the dining hall, scanning the board to see what was available this morning. it seemed her choice would be between protein pancakes, (which tasted like floor) or some sort of turkey bacon omelet. and so she chose the latter.

"how would you like the bacon?" the chef smiled at her.

"extra crispy." aline, and somehow another voice both said in unison. she whipped around, eager to identify her eavesdropper. her furrowed brow smoothed out in realisation. "koundé." she nodded.

"captain amayou." jules pretended to curtsy to her.

"oh wow, nice to see you treating the captain with some respect." she snorted, shaking her head at him.

he scratched the back of his neck. "i don't remember doing anything of the opposite, what do you mean?"

"are you waiting to be served, or are you just going to stand in the way of everyone else?" a male voice called out to jules.

"DEMBOUZ!" jules exclaimed happily. "what are you doing here?" 

"this is a shared facility, what do you mean?" ousmane behaved coyly.

jules lowered his voice. "you know damn well we have our own chefs."

"yeah well, their eggs just don't taste the same as..." he paused, reading the first chef he could see's name tag. "matthieu's eggs."

"right." jules nodded with a smirk, evidently unconvinced.

"you make it so hard for someone to say they miss you, koundé." ousmane muttered.

"there it is," jules laughed happily, slinging his arm around ousmane's neck and roughly embracing him against his chest. "i missed you too, frèrot."

ousmane glanced around. "two weeks left eh? i bet you won't miss this place."

jules turned around, as his eyes met aline's. "i might miss a few things." he spoke softly.

"like what?" ousmane asked, not challenging; genuinely curious.

"i mean i won't miss their captain. she is an awful, awful lady." jules shuddered, as he earned the glare he'd hoped for from those same dark eyes. "but i think i'll miss their number five. she's always looking out for the squad before herself, and she keeps her head in situations i definitely wouldn't have. i'm trying to be more like her." he smiled at aline.

ousmane snorted. "of course your favourite is the one who wears your shirt number and plays your position."

"you know," jules started, before breaking eye contact with aline and turning back to face his french teammate. "i think i've come to learn that i wear her shirt number, and play her position." he smiled knowingly.

"wow," ousmane seemed pleasantly surprised. "who are you, and what have you done with jules koundé?"

"jules koundé may or may not have got the humbling he deserved." jules muttered under his breath, and the dark skinned girl behind him snorted loudly. he turned around and glared at her.

"and who are you?" ousmane beamed at aline. "because that laugh gave me the vibe that you might have had something to do with this humbling."

"hi." she reached out to shake his hand, which he took. "i'm aline."

"ah, so you're amayou. i'm always trying to figure out who is who when the femenino lineups appear on my instagram." ousmane nodded in acknowledgment.

"you follow the women's team on instagram?" aline cocked her head at him.

"of course i do." ousmane chuckled, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "so what position do you play?"

aline sighed, and moved forwards to exaggeratively rest her elbow on jules' shoulder. a blush began to spread across his face. "i'm a centre-half, and the team captain." she informed him.

ousmane's eyebrows raised in alarm. "my guy just called you awful and you didn't say nothing!" 

aline laughed ruthlessly. "see, the funny thing is," she began, as ousmane listened intently. "i'm also the number five."

──★ ˙ ̟🌷 !!

i loved that ending hehehe

jules exposed as a softie,

#cancelled