football imagines <3

(30.1) unfoolish - jack grealish

The screen had lit up for the 10th time today, the previous picture removed and a beautiful candid picture of your rabbit now stood in it's place.

Jack G

Jack G

Jack G

For fucks sake, you clicked on the lock button of your phone and threw it on your bed as you made your way to the kitchen. It was empty, for now, as you navigated the space to fix yourself a sandwich. There wasn't anything enticing to drink so you grabbed a bottle of sparkling water, and sat on the barstools divulging in your quick-fix meal.

It's been a week. A week since you walked out of the apartment and never looked back; not even knowing where you were headed but knowing that you had to get out of there.

It no longer angered you — what he said — instead, it saddened you. To think that you've spent years with the man, only, to discover his true feelings about you. The fact that you had accepted all those expensive gifts from him, feeling guilty, because it added onto the assumptions. What had his friends really thought about the glimmering jewellery, the shopping bags of clothing, the over-seas trips?

Your thoughts would've spiralled further into the deep had the perfume of your friend — Aisha — not swirl in the air. Her slender arms wrapping around your shoulders, into a bone-crushing hug.

"You're awake?"

Leaning into her body, you nodded your head. "Yeah, been for a while. But, my phone didn't wanna stop ringing, and you-know-who's name popped up so I just left it in my room."

"That's my girl. That jerk deserves nothing but the cold shoulder from you for the rest of his life."

"Aisha..." You sighed tiredly, looking at your best friend.

Her long braids raised in the air as did her shoulders when she shrugged, "You know how feel about him."

"I do..." You began. "But, still, you don't have to go that—"

"Yes, yes, I do have to go that far." Her hazel eyes flashing with anger, fists curling into her palms. "He called my friend a 'gold-digger'. Of course, he deserves every bad thing coming to him, the bastard."

There was silence in the room. Well, except for the kettle that was boiling and Aisha's very deep, and very angry breaths.

She softened up when she saw tears in your eyes and your twiddling thumbs to distract her from your shaky hands. "Oh, I'm sorry." Aisha reached out, and hugged you again. "I know you still love him but my feelings aren't going to change, yeah."

"I get it." You sniffled. "Why should it? Matter of fact, why hasn't my feelings changed? Why does it still hurt when I think of him?"

"Why?" The question sounded so sad, so broken, so torn down coming from your lips. "Why?"

Aisha started rubbing her warm hand along your back when the doorbell rang. It was unexpected as she (or you) were expecting no one; her boyfriend on the other side of the country but she still answered the door.

"No." Aisha said sternly as she quickly closed the door. "No. No. No."

The doorbell kept ringing, and the sound was irritating you so you got up and checked yourself. As you walked closer, you could hear that the sound was accompanied by knocking... and a voice.

A voice you were all too familiar with; it haunted your dreams and echoed in the corners of your room. Oh.

Jack.