Healing Hearts | Virgil van Dijk

wine and dine me

"The swelling has been going down thankfully. You're very lucky it's a minor injury. I've discussed your injury with both Dr. Woods and Dr. Davis, and we think you'll be back in a few weeks, though we'll have to keep monitoring it regularly. Especially since you're being included in the national team lineup." I say, filling in some important documents about Ibo's injury.

"Thank you doctor. I really hope I will be fine for the national matches." He says, French accent shining through. I give him a crooked smile, turning my full attention towards him.

"You know I can't promise you anything except that I'll help you to my upmost ability, as your physiotherapist." I state. He nods his head, acknowledging what I tell him. I give him some more instructions about how to make sure his injury doesn't get worse. He walks out of my office a while later, feeling more confident in healing faster.

I glance at my planner, checking off the appointments I had completed. Realizing I had a fifteen-minute break. I grab my phone out of my handbag, checking my messages.

I had sent my friends a couple of cute pictures I took last night, asking which one to post.
I had done my make up and dressed up out of boredom. Wanting to go back to posting on my Instagram regularly, keeping my friends and family up to date since I now lived in a different city again.

I add some other pictures to it, making it photo dump and adding a caption. I press post, scrolling through my timeline before checking the time. Next appointment: meeting with physiotherapy team.

I shove my phone in my back pocket, grabbing some documents we need before walking along the hallways to the gym, Dr. Davis would definitely be there.

I feel my stomach grumble, lunchtime was soon and I couldn't wait to eat honestly.

I walk in greeting some players who are working out hard. The faint smell of sweat and deodorant hits my nose. I scrunch my nose, trying to focus on my own perfume. I could never get used to the smell of men exercising, no matter how long I worked in this industry.

Suddenly, a ball rolls up to my feet. I turn my head to the right seeing Trent and Dom. My left hand fidgeting with the documents in my arm.

"You guys are playing two touch in the gym?"
I raise my brows at them, taking the ball and rolling it under my foot. "That's what I said. This is gym time!" I glance at a slightly frustrated Mo, chuckling at him before turning back to the other guys. "You guys sound like my parents when I was younger. Stop being an arse and kick the ball back!" Trent yells in his Scouser accent.

I gasp at him, grabbing my chest offended. "Hey, I'm only twenty-five, he's the old one!" I point to Mo as he gives me a surprised look. The other players in the gym looking up due to the slight commotion. "I am not old- I'm thirty-one!" He exclaims. I try hold back a laugh, glancing at the other players who have slight grins on their face, overhearing our banter.

I feel a warm hand on my shoulder, turning my head to see a slightly sweaty Virgil. A sweaty but powdery-musk smell enters my nostrils. His curly baby hairs sticking to his forehead, his signature waves slightly frizzy. He leans forward, his face close to mine.

"If he's old what am I then?" My eyes widen, feeling his minty breath fanning my face. I stare up at him for a second before I hear my name being called by Dr. Davis, who's looking at us from the entrance of the gym. "Well- I've got a meeting, you'll have to ask Trent!" I give him a sheepish smile, scooping up the ball with my foot and kicking it back to Dominik, surprising myself at the fact that I hadn't lost the football skills I had learnt in primary school.

"Train hard everyone! I'll be there James!" I yell before jogging away hearing some chuckles behind me as leave the gym.