interdit, ˚⊹ jules koundé

𝟎𝟏𝟔.

'...𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭.'

"i know it's your birthday, but what is wrong with you?" jules annoyedly pulled ousmane aside.

the motion nearly caused ousmane's martini to spill over the rim of his glass.

"chill, bro? what do you mean what's wrong with me? what's wrong with you?" ousmane replied, wondering what on earth was his dear friend's problem today.

"why'd you tell her to invite him here? what kind of friend are you?" jules folded his arms.

"have you lost your mind, frèrot? what on earth are you talking about?" ousmane decided to enthusiastically keep sipping his martini, clearly not inebriated enough to tolerate jules at this current point in time.

"aline." jules muttered. "you told her to bring that guy she's seeing, or fucking, or whatever, after i trusted you with how i felt?" he shook his head at his teammate with disappointment.

ousmane unintentionally spat a mixture of vermouth and dry gin out at jules, as he burst out laughing. "did i not tell you?" he spluttered.

jules dabbed at the stray drops of liquid that had landed on his chest. "are you a horse? mon dieu, swallow before you start neighing like one. and tell me what?"

"that guy, andré, is her brother you idiot." ousmane shook his head, as he reached over the bar for some napkins for the two.

"eh?" jules' face dropped. "seriously?"

"you make me laugh, jules. go fix whatever it is you started." ousmane playfully shoved him towards the rest of the small crowd, and jules nodded ashamedly.

"i'll see you later, dembouz." he replied awkwardly, to which the taller boy just laughed.

jules made his way back through the crowd. there were two bars, one small one just for basic drinks where aline stood previously; while the birthday boy had been poised besides a larger one with its own seating area. it additionally served canapés and such. he spotted the smaller one, scanning to see if aline was still there.

"ah, and this is barcelona's number five, jules koundé." pedri's voice rang out from behind jules' figure.

jules turned around to see who he was addressing, and it was an unfamiliar man who looked awfully similar.

the man shot pedri a warning stare. "watch it, my sister would kill you if she heard you announce somebody else a barcelona's number five." he laughed.

it clicked in jules' mind. "don't i know that," he chuckled, extending his hand. "nice to meet you, andré is it?"

"yes!" andré smiled, clearly very elated that he had known his name. "how did you know?"

"i'm currently serving a suspension for a red," jules covered his face, pretending to be embarrassed. "so i've had captain amayou barking at me for a month instead of busquets kind instruction."

"that sounds like aline." her brother nodded in agreement. "i apologise and empathise, truly."

jules laughed. "i like this amayou ten times more already," he glanced at pedri while pointing at andré.

"don't let her hear that." pedri joked, his eyes widening for effect.

"i won't tell her if you won't." andré put a finger to his lips. "sorry jules, pedri would you mind concluding your tour in front of wherever the bathroom is? i don't know why they make the aperol spritzes so inhumanely large here." he shuddered. and after jules quickly bade them goodbye, they were on their way.