Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and experience new...
A/N: Hi loves! Sorry for the late post. I've been studying for exams I have this week and the next week and it's been insanely time consuming. That's also why I'm choosing to take a two week break from writing, I hope you guys will understand. Don't worry, I promise I'll be back with a banger. For now, enjoy this chapter <3
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I let go of the steering wheel as I arrive at the terminal, half slumping over it due to how tired I am. Rubbing my eyes lightly to not smudge my mascara, even though I knew that the moment I sat down in the plane I would be out cold and my make up would be smeared. Thankfully, I could use all my energy on driving carefully and properly.
I groan, cursing the scheduling staff for planning a flight with the team at seven in the morning. The match against LASK would take place tomorrow evening, so why the rush?
I grab my small suitcase filled with all the essentials I would need over the course of the next two days. I throw my handbag over my shoulder, actively trying to avoid the September sun, beaming into my tired eyes while locking my car.
I turn around walking towards the small private plane terminal. The wind had picked up since I left my home, making me feel like my suitcase weighed a million pounds. I place my hand above my eyes, looking down at the floor as I continue walking.
"Lookin' tired doctor."
I turn around abruptly, eyes meeting a cheery Robbo.
"Hm slept way too little." I respond, zero energy in my voice. He walks up next to me, a comforting smile on his face while he pats my shoulder.
"Sleep on the plane. Four hours should be good enough doctor."
"That was exactly my plan." I mumble a small smile cracking on my face, continuing to walk beside him. Pulling my suitcase behind me.
It had been about a week since the guys had come back from international duty. The away game against Wolves last Saturday was an amazing way to start again, with a 3-1 for Liverpool.
I had totally been busy with injuries lately, working on the recoveries and planning that came with them. Ibou could start tomorrows game thankfully. I still had to work with Trent on his injury, but I had full faith in his recovery.
Things between me and Virgil had been- normal. He'd joined the team on the away game, showing support to the guys even when he was suspended.
Thinking about that £100.000 fine he had received had me sweating just at the thought of having to pay. Expensive things and prices weren't that foreign to me, but having to spend that amount on a fine had me shocked. I had teased him about it, telling him he could abstain from buying a new super car that week. He had given me an annoyed look, as he continued to run faster on the treadmill during one of our appointments. I had never laughed at him that hard before.
He had brought up our conversation in his car after the appointment, urging me to not keep problems to myself again. I had waved him off with a smile, telling him I'd be fine. Truly, I hadn't lied. Everything had been going fine so far, no calls and no messages from him. I had just been living my life as normal as possible.
