"what was that, the other day?" jules stopped in his tracks as him and ousmane were marching through les corts; along the avenue de madrid. they had decided to have dinner together, due to how little they had seen each other in the past five weeks.
"what was what, my friend?" ousmane smiled at him in oblivion.
"all of the feminino shit. were you trying to make me look bad?" jules glared at the taller man.
ousmane furrowed his brow. "what are you talking about?" he had now stopped walking too.
"you were showing off how invested you were in the women's team to aline. bullshit you are. i've never heard you talk about them once." jules muttered, earning an amused stare from ousmane.
"why do you care?" ousmane smirked, now fully understanding of the situation.
"ah," ousmane nodded. "thank you for the life lesson." he responded sarcastically.
following so, jules affirmed with a nod. "no problem."
"no, jules don't nod at me. now who is bullshitting?" ousmane threw him a sideways glance.
jules put his hands on his hips, resting his weight on one leg as they both stood idly in the middle of the street. "what are you trying to say?"
"you're mad because you think i lied, or you're mad because i impressed her and you didn't?" ousmane grinned mischievously.
jules gave him a light shove. "ta guele." he rolled his eyes.
"you're telling me to shut up?!" ousmane's mouth fell open at the apparent revelation. "so you admit it?" he said, as they began walking again. they would be attending a peruvian restaurant.
"i didn't admit anything." jules threw him a pointed look, walking faster as they were both currently starving. the regimes aline had him on, even though he was only a centre-back and didn't even as much endurance training, were absolutely wrecking him day in day out.
yet there seemed to be more of a spring in his step. it was easier to get up in the morning. and dare he say, he was performing better on the pitch? of course it's a different dynamic, but jules feared that when he returned to camp nou, he would have to admit that aline really had made him a better player.
the thought of the satisfaction on her face made him writhe, he couldn't stand the thought of her smug expressions.
"what's going on in your mind?" ousmane spoke up. "you look like you're in pain. or constipated."
"thank you, ousmane. i'm greatly touched by your concern," jules began with flippancy, before sighing. "honestly, i don't know." a slight frustration escaped his tone.
"is it señorita cinco?" ousmane grinned, referring to their number five discrepancies.
jules contemplated fighting it longer, before he dolefully shot his teammate a defeated look. "i think so."
"i thought that you hated each other, like past respecting her playing ability and so." ousmane responded inquisitively.
"i do hate her!" jules huffed in exasperation.
"in the words of jules koundé, lying is bad, jules koundé." ousmane shook his head with a slight chuckle.
"well, at least i thought i did. we were becoming close friends at one point, after her injury i remember," jules paused, pondering for a moment. "and then she flipped on me and we've been more distant ever since so i just assumed whatever may have been, was over. and then i overheard her and walsh gossiping about how some dude was flying in to visit her, and..." he trailed off wistfully.
"and you got jealous?" ousmane quietly asked him.
jules glanced at him, his eyes filled with vulnerability. "maybe?"
"so who is this dude?" the taller boy changed tack slightly.
"i don't know anything." jules scowled. "but she was talking about how excited she was to see him, and uh, walsh was saying how he always makes time for her." he rolled his eyes.
"oh, my friend, you're jealous alright." ousmane told him, with a twinkle in his eye that jules couldn't quite read.
──★ ˙ ̟🌷 !!
listening to 'when you
were mine' by joy crookes
as i write this.
banger!
fun fact - she held my hand once,
when i was front row at her show🥺
fck it imma insert a pic,
LOOK HOW CLOSE I WAS
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