How hard can it be to fall in love with a football player when you're afraid of footballs...?
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Helping out her best friend by playing the lead in that music video project for university had seemed like an easy enough feat for art student Lorelai...
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They had kissed.
They had KISSED.
It had happened. Right? They HAD kissed.
No matter how many times Lorelai's mind established exactly this sequence of words, she still couldn't believe it had actually happened.
And it hadn't been just any kiss. Sure, it had started out as tender. But then feelings had taken over, feelings that wouldn't be satisfied by the mere touch of lips alone. Passion had reigned free: the way she'd clung to him, desperate to feel as much of him as possible, and the way he'd pressed her even closer, his hands roaming through her hair as his mouth devoured her.The way her knees almost gave way when they at long last had to come up for air.
What a kiss.
»And who are you daydreaming about, my dear?« Miguel's voice[1] interrupted.
»Hm?«
Lorelai leant against the counter of the café, chin resting in her hands, her elbows set upon the counter.
Miguel stood next to her, eyebrow raised, giving her a knowing look. »You've been staring into space for the last few minutes, sighing like a schoolgirl with a crush. If that's not daydreaming, then what is?«
Lorelai cleared her throat and stood up straight, brushing a hand through her hair. »I have no idea what you're talking about. Oh, look! Customers!«
With that she was out the door and asking the newly arrived visitors about their beverage wishes, her work day continuing as before.
It was Wednesday. It was around four o'clock in the afternoon. It also was one of her and Miguel's shared shifts at the café.
And it was three days after the kiss. Well, two, if you decided not to count Sunday, the day of the match, anymore; technically it had been Monday morning already. Which had been the first of December. She and Neymar had kissed right at the beginning of December.
Lorelai loved December. She always felt that the air was more charged with raw emotions than any other time of the year. Expectations and sentiment for the upcoming Christmas season hung in the air. Already, decorations had started to show up in windows and shops, putting the citizens of Barcelona in a festive mood, and, as was starting to become tradition, the city had built a huge ice skating area at the Plaça de Catalunya, bringing all the more customers to »Marina's«.
She couldn't really explain her fascination with December. There was just something in the atmosphere. People and animals alike somehow changed and with them the tone and machinations of the city. Barcelona became more tranquil, calmer, as if lost in thought, contemplating the year that was coming to an end. She wasn't a big fan of Christmas itself — the commercial side of it, that is — but at least at the beginning of December, the city of Barcelona seemed to calm down somewhat, as if to gather its last energy resources of the year before the hectic of family reunions or last minute shopping became a challenge; and with that, the illusion of her perfect, calm and wonderful December shattered, every single year.
